Enjoy the rural life in Fiji

After only five minutes of flying time from the Fiji capital of Suva, I spotted Ovalau. Through the windows of the 16-seater aircraft, the volcanic island soon filled my view - immense ragged peaks of the interior cloaked in greens plunging into mangrove forests on the coast. Small villages nestled in coral-fringed bays, patchworks of fields spreading around the shiny tin roofs and the occasional thatched hut.
We swooped down into the tangle of mangroves before the airstrip. A tiny island off the east coast of Viti Levu, Ovalau has historical importance that more than makes up for its lack of size. The town of Levuka is the focal point of the island and is saturated in historical significance. European traders first settled here in the early 1830s; a colourful mob of sailers, whalers, beachcombers and sandalwood gatherers. It wasn't long before the town became a thriving port where clapboard shops lined the main street, and watering holes of much notoriety opened up on every corner.
Back then, it was a wild old town. By the 1860s, European settlers began pouring into Levuka and the island's first newspaper, The Fiji Times, reported that the main nuisance in town was the constant report of firearms. In 1871, the same year that the Kingdom of Fiji was established, Levuka became the capital, but it wasn't until 1873, when King Cakabau ceded Fiji to Great Britain from the shores of Ovalau, that law and order finally arrived to this South Seas outpost.
Since 1881, when the capital was moved to Suva, Levuka has reverted to a tranquil backwater, perhaps the most laidback of all the Fijian islands. Yet, its history is overwhelming - from the Cession Stones where Fiji was first handed to the British to the colourful clapboard Victorian architecture of the main street and the genteel but dilapidated colonial opulence of the Royal Hotel (the oldest continuously run hotel in the South Pacific).
As I booked into the Royal Hotel, my gaze was captured by the extravagant hibiscus blooms that filled pots and vases everywhere, and by the gleam of the polished wooden floors. Beneath slowly-rotating ceiling fans, rattan and rosewood chairs offered a cool retreat. From the dim recesses of the hotel, the click of billiard balls could be heard from a table imported from England late last century.
For my initial exploration of Levuka, I enlisted the services of local guide Henry Sahai, and soon realised that taking to the streets with Henry was the best way to meet everyone in town; every few metres someone would call 'Bula Henry' and stop for a chat. Love and pride for his hometown glowed on his tanned and whiskered face as he led me from one magnificent old colonial building to the next, entertaining me with local gossip and stories of old.
Levuka may be a quiet backwater but there is no shortage of great places to eat. The Whale's Tale in the centre of town is a perennial favourite with locals and travellers alike for delicious meals and copious rounds of a drink called yaqona (also known as kava). "How about some yaqona?" the proprietor is likely to say as you walk through the door. Drinking kava is an age-old ceremony and a social custom that is alive and well in the islands of Fiji. The drink is an infusion made from the pounded roots of the piper methysticum shrub. When it is first offered, it is considered rude to refuse, and because it is famous for tasting worse than muddy water, it is a challenge many travellers to Fiji will face from time to time.
When it is offered, you clap once, then guzzle down a bilo (coconut cup) of kava down in one go, followed by three more claps. Customers inside the Whale's Tale took evident delight at my grimaces as I dutifully gulped down my first bowl of kava. On a positive note, my delicious meal of local river prawns and light cassava cakes soon washed away the aftertaste.
Back at the Royal Hotel, my attention was caught by a crumpled manila folder on the reception desk titled, 'Sign here for Epi's Lovoni Tour'. I had heard about the legendary Lovoni tribe who lived in a fortress village high in the caldera of an extinct volcano. I quickly signed up for the tour.
Epi is a storyteller extraordinaire. It took him many hours to relate his version of Lovoni history and the multitude of medicinal uses for plants, during which time I lunched at his family home, swam in mountain streams, ploughed through seemingly impenetrable jungle scaling the crater rim and wound up exhausted.
Ten kilometres from Levuka, is the Devokula Cultural Village - a traditional Fijian village in every sense - that maintains the rapidly disappearing ways of its ancestors, and creates jobs for people using traditional skills. Today, the village of thatched bures (wood-and-straw huts), meeting houses, craft-working areas and the towering bure kalau (spirit house), all built by village youths, is a model for the establishment of a sustainable future for rural communities, where visitors can stay and experience authentic village life.
Met by a fiercely painted warrior at the boundary of taro fields, I was led to the sevusevu ceremony. Sevusevu is protocol that must be observed when entering any Fijian village. Armed with my gift of yaqona roots, an elderly spokesperson
addressed the old chief, asking permission for me to enter, and for forgiveness for any social bloopers I might inadvertently commit whilst in the village.
What a day it was! An enormous communal lunch was served, hands for cutlery and mats for seats, and everything was cooked in a lovo (earth oven). Then there was time to swim and snorkel before the meke.
Meke is the traditional entertainment for chiefs and visitors, or for celebrations of village events in the Fijian islands. At Devokula, it was wild warrior dances, sing songs (Fijians have the most wonderfully harmonious voices) and the women's dances which were done seated, using their hands and upper body in a series of graceful moves, every movement with a story to tell.
"Wasah Meke!" Devokula's leading meke dancer screamed, brandishing his spear in a demonically threatening manner at the group of visitors. Stamping up dust, he danced up a storm, while ferocious young warriors followed his lead accompanied by the songs of the village women and elders.
After my evening meal, just when I thought things couldn't get better, out came the ukulele, tea-chest bass, guitar and drum. Many hours later, I finally stumbled into my own bure for blissful kava-induced sleep beneath the thatch. Words are inadequate to describe how peaceful it is to fall asleep to the soft songs of the villagers and to wake to the sounds of thousands of tiny fish leaping across the surface of the Pacific Ocean at dawn. All the people connected with Devokula can be proud of their village project. The wonderful people on the island of Ovalau really exemplify the very best of cultural tourism in Fiji, tourism that operates on a village level and warmly opens its arms to the world.
Useful Websites
Royal Hotel, Levuka: www.royallevuka.com
Devokula Cultural Village: www.owlfiji.com
wknd@khaleejtimes.com