Coral Farming with Kids!

So last I had updated you about our environment club at the school (the umm Big Fantastic Club), we had been having sessions to learn about and explore coral reef ecosystems. Well, this was the final trimester of the year and my last chance to work with the class 8 students who, beginning in January, would be moving on to board at secondary school. So as a group, we decided to apply our newfound knowledge of coral reefs by initiating a coral planting project.

This is a fairly inexpensive and straightforward process and if applied on a larger or more professional scale is an efficient method of recovering damaged coral reefs. For our purposes, however, I just wanted the students to get a more tangible sense of what coral looks like up close and that hopefully, by nurturing their own small bit of coral to grow they might gain a better respect for coral reefs and a better understanding of why they’re important.

First meeting of the term where we talked out our plan for the next three months.

Step 1: Making the sand plot

In order to plant bits of coral, we needed some kind of base that the coral could grow from and that could also be used to attach it to the reef when the coral was ready to be replanted. The bases that we decided on were cement pancakes with a little divot hole in the top (to attach the coral fragment to using a marine epoxy) and a stick like appendage extending from the bottom that can be used to secure the pancake to the reef.

To make the pancakes we needed a nice open sandy area where we could pour the cement. The students took to the task with gusto – clearing and preparing a nice sandy patch close to the beach. Once we had the area set up, we poured water onto it to make it damp and proceeded to make small shallow holes that would serve to create the stick appendage. 

Digging our sand plot, where we would create our cement pancakes.

The sand needs to be smooth in order to create nice even pancakes!

Working together as a team

The class 5 and 6 teacher helping out on pancake making day. The sand needed to be moist in order to keep the form of the cement.

Using a stick to push small shallow holes into the wet sand. These would create the stick-like handle on the cement pancake that will hold it in place in the cage and then later when it is placed on the reef.

 

Finally, we mixed up the cement (cutting it with a bit of sand) and poured it into each of the little holes the students made, adding a little extra at the top to serve as the pancake. Once they were set a little bit the students carved their names into them.

Students pouring their own pancakes

Batch number one cooking in the sun!

Step 2: Placing the cage

Having our pancakes prepared we needed to set up our nursery in water that was shallow enough for the students to reach but deep enough to substantially cover the corals at low tide. It took nearly 20 minutes of walking into the water but eventually we reached an appropriate area. The students had carried out a large sheet of mesh that would serve as our nursery structure. We also carried out a flag to mark the location so we could find it again!

Signing our BFC flag that would mark the location of our cage in the water - the spot where the corals would go to grow

Marching out to place the flag and the cage

This is our cage or rather its a bit of hurricane mesh that I acquired from another Peace Corps' house. We elevated it up on some rocks and placed more rocks around the borders as weight so that it would remain stable in rough weather.

Step 3: Harvesting a bit of healthy coral

Class 8 students that had received permission from both their parents and the head teacher were allowed to participate in the field trip out to the reef break to harvest our healthy coral stock. It would take one person all of 5 minutes to acquire enough appropriate coral for our purposes but none of these students had ever been out to the reef before and had never seen a coral reef ecosystem in person. I wanted them to have that experience. 

Taking the class 8 students out to the reef break at the nearest passage. The location we chose is particularly healthy and a good site for harvesting a few pieces of coral to use in our project.

The site we had selected was ideal as well because it was nice and shallow with an excellent selection of healthy corals and then it led to an abrupt drop off leading into a wide passage – it looked just like the drop off in Finding Nemo. Having a bit of blue water like that allowed the kids to see some big fish as well including a few barracudas and a shark! Altogether, we collected appropriate pieces and gently piled them in a bucket for transport. 

Collecting corals

Back on the boat - we filled the bucket with more water and kept the corals nice and covered until we planted them promptly afterward

Step 4: Planting in the nursery

Finally, we had everything we needed to plant our corals. Each student had a pancake and would receive a small piece of coral fragment (broken off the larger healthy branches that we had collected) that would be glued to the top of the pancake using a special marine epoxy that hardens underwater. Once each student had his or her fragment attached, we marched as a group to our cage nursery and planted them!

Showing off their pancakes!

Attaching pieces of coral to each pancake using a special marine epoxy. The students brought their pancakes one at a time and I glued on the coral fragments. Once they were set, the kids took them to the water to keep the corals underwater until everyone was ready to march out to the cage for placement.

Sadly, however, a lot of students lost their coral fragments because they were playing a bit too much on the way out and in the end we placed a mere five pancakes in the nursery! Isa lei. But the point wasn’t to establish a highly efficient and productive coral recovery farm but rather for the students to go through the hands on process and in doing so attain a better connection to the marine environment. 

Showing off their corals and looking like little rock stars in my swim goggles.

A few of the successfully placed corals.

Step 5: Celebrate!

Now usually, at this point in the coral planting process you would let your corals grow in their nursery while carefully tending to them and keeping them free from harm. Once they reach a good enough size to ensure a fighting chance of survival on the reef, they would be transplanted. However, we finished our project just about the same time as term ended and the students would be leaving on break. So sometime during the next term we’ll take a trip out as a club again (without our class 8 students) and see if our few corals have survived and grown big enough to transplant.

Once again, I’m mostly just pleased with the kids’ enthusiasm during the project and that they were able to have this experience. Naturally, the last thing we had to do was celebrate the completion of our project and the end of term! So what kind of fun water related activity could I get the students to partake in? Something they’d never done before? Water balloon fight anyone?

Balloons and students - both ready to go!

The kids went absolutely nuts having a water balloon war! We filled up around 300 balloons (a far cry from the amount that I was hoping for but all the more reason to do it again) placed them in basins on the steps of the school and said go! Everyone was completely soaked, bystanders included and it was all over within 5 minutes but the kids loved it! We’ll definitely be bringing this activity back. 

The fight begins!

 

All in all, I hope that my year with the kids and our environment club has left them with a little more knowledge and respect for their own environment and I hope (though I feel pretty sure about this one) that they had fun during the learning process. Until next term!

Wait...What?!

Sorry it's been so very long! My longest stretch yet! But I have this fun little story that I just wrote for our in country volunteer newsletter and will hopefully be following up with a post about our coral farming project with the kids. 

~~~

We’ve all been there. Whether you’ve been serving in Fiji for two months or coming up on two years, I can just about guarantee that you’ve experienced a moment like this. It starts, for instance, when you’re sitting enjoying a nice cup of sugar with a friend when something happens or something is said that is either: a) surprising, b) confusing, c) urgent, or d) all of the above. Naturally, this also takes place in rapid Fijian probably at a high decibel with lots of gesticulation making you wonder if a tidal wave of molten lava is rapidly descending upon the village when your Fijian catches up to you and you realize they’re yelling about there being too many flies so we better hang a plastic bag full of water.

Wait… (you pause with a look of consternation on your face trying to figure it out but fail miserably)… what? Being that that made no sense whatsoever you perhaps are hopeful enough to ask for clarification. They repeat what they were shouting. You sigh and decide to just give up and accept that you will never know why hanging a plastic bag full of water will have any relation to the number of flies in the immediate vicinity or why it warranted apocalyptic shouting and gesturing. These instances happen with varying frequency for each of us but the real ‘wait what’ situations are the ones in which you are not simply a bystander to the baffling behavior but rather the focal point of it.   

One fine Sunday I was peacefully zoning out in the back section of our church during the morning service. It was youth day apparently, which induced more people to appear in their Sunday best than I even knew we had living in the village. Naturally, service extended on for another good hour but I was aware when the preacher had finally reached the last stage and fresh air was just another minute or two away.

As the man was waxing on about some other thing the people were doing wrong, the girl (my age) sitting next to me abruptly leans in and begins to whisper to me in rapid fire Fijian in a very urgent manner. Snapping out of my reverie, I stared blankly at her not having taken in a word she said, arched and eyebrow and replied, “a cava??” All the while wondering what the hell could have happened during the two hours we sat next to each other in silence to make her absolutely need to speak to me two minutes before we would be outside and free to speak anyway.

She began whispering at me again with such vehemence that it sounded like there was a small tank of helium being slowly reprieved of its gas nearby. Meanwhile everyone in the three rows in front of us and the three rows behind had stopped what they were doing to listen in and to nod their heads in agreement (we were sitting in more or less an all women’s section). This time I picked up what she was saying:

“Tina, as soon as he finishes speaking you have to get up and run outside to Mita!”

“Wait…what? Why? Where’s Mita?”

“She’s standing outside waiting for you!”

“Why do I have to run to her?”

“Because they’re going to be running after you.”

She says this and gestures towards the section on the other side of the aisle where all the men are sitting. When I look over I notice with some concern that they’re all shuffling and twisting around and looking antsy. I can tell that some of them are overhearing our conversation and don’t look happy about it. What the hell is going on?!

I tried once more to say “Wait…what??” but just as I got the words out the man up front finished speaking.

“Go Tina! Quick! Quick!” They all start yelling, no longer trying to be discreet. They shove me into the aisle and as I start to speed walk along I turn around looking at them for confirmation that I’m doing what they want and catch a glimpse of the group of men charging at my heels. Holy hell! What is going on?!

I get out the door and pick up my pace when I see Mita standing some twenty feet away with a dish in her hand, perched on a hill like Vana White. I make a beeline towards her and manage to get to her first. She then hands me the dish, which is mounded up with all sorts of holiday type food, and as she does so I notice all the men that were seemingly seconds away from a tackle cut their momentum and slink away looking dejected. The women just making their way out the door all cheered. Then everyone went back to being normal and I was left standing there with a mountain of food completely lost.

Assuming that the plate of food was mine for whatever reason (though I’ve learned not to assume much in Fiji), I began to make my way home. On the way, I was stopped by an old man who told me a bit sternly that that plate was mine and that I had to take it to America. At first I thought he meant with the food on it but either way I just nodded and agreed with him – of course that’s what I was planning to do all along.

I was called over to my friend’s house for lunch so I bring the giant dish of food to share hoping to ask my friend about it. When I broached the topic trying to convey my confusion, she explained it to me in a ‘duh why don’t you know this’ sort of manner:

“Tina, don’t you know Merelita?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“It’s her newborn’s first church service.”

“Ok…”

“Us Fijians are like that Tina.”

She was done talking having explained it fully.

“Wait… what?”

But I didn’t get anything more coherent than that out of her. It took me a while to figure it out on my own but I think I got it. My assumption is that in Fiji, there’s a tradition that if it’s your newborn’s first mass, then you have to prepare a dish of nice food and give it to the first person to exit the church, probably for good luck. I’m also assuming that the women just wanted me to get out of the door and over to Mita first so that I would get the food even though everyone else was eligible had they arrived first. That’s my best guess anyway. It’s also the most baffled I’ve ever been in Fiji, though it wasn’t the first time and certainly won’t be the last. It’s those ‘wait…what?’ moments that really remind you sometimes that you are serving in a completely different culture than your own and though it can be frustrating it can be thoroughly entertaining as well!  

How to Create a Locally Managed Marine Protected Area

**Fair warning in advance – this is a really long post. It details the primary project I’ve been working on during my past eleven months here at the new site. I’ve told you all the nonsense I get up to when I’m not working, it only seems fair that I share the other half of my life here.

When I first came to this village after having so abruptly left my last site, I remember being worried about having to adjust all over again and fearing that they would expect miracles from me upon the moment of my arrival. I just wanted to unpack and at least learn the name of the village first.

The first morning I spent in my new house I was awoken at 6 am by some aggressive pounding on the railing of my porch. I had to fight my way through all my belongings littered about like I was auditioning for a game show on Japanese prime time. Groggy, disheveled, and as previously noted, a bit overwhelmed, I opened the door to find the village chief standing there cane in hand, giant glasses askew, and sporting a big gap-toothed grin that gave an overall impression of an elderly jack-o-lantern. I half expected him to start poking me with his cane as he began to speak.

“Tina, we need to meet today about the projects you’ll be working on. We’ll have to contact the turaga ni koro to get his involvement and you should really acquaint yourself with the village development committee leader as you’ll be working with him a bit and they have been asking about you down at the provincial offices and the Roko Tui would like to have a sit down to get a better idea as to what your plans are for the next 18 months. Here are some folders, books and materials that detail all of the work the previous volunteer accomplished for us and she left some specific guidelines as to how to carry on with these projects and ideas for other ones. And what are you doing sleeping so late? The children will be here any moment to brush their teeth!”

He said all this in a mix of broken English and Fijian and then gave the greatest laugh (though I didn’t think it was great at the time) – something like the count from sesame street but with more ‘yukking.’

Huh? The children will be coming here to brush their teeth? At 6 am? In my house? … All of them?? Confused and panicky about brushing teeth and lacking a comprehensive 18 month plan of action, I just sort of stood there wondering where exactly I should respond. I just hadn’t been serving in Peace Corps long enough to realize that ridiculous conversations like this that make me have an internal conniption about my apparent lack of value as a volunteer are just par for the course. Thinking back I think the chief was just trying to mess with my head, see if he couldn’t freak out the newbie for some before breakfast entertainment.

Anyway, in an effort to look on top of things (with my shirt on backwards), I started rambling on about the knowledge and experience that I had to offer and how in my last village we had been really interested in creating some tabu areas (marine protected areas) and…

Mid sentence the chief cuts me off with, “Oh, vinaka Tina, we’ll do that then,” and then storms off to accept an invitation to tea that someone shouted to him from across the village, yukking to himself all the while.

And based on that absurd discussion on my porch at 6 am, we soon began our project on establishing marine protected areas within the bounds of village owned waters... sometimes it’s not as professional or inspiring as you would think; even really important and influential work can have the most absurd beginnings.

~~~

Step 1: Form the committee

In the village, whenever a committee needs to be formed or a leader appointed to a project the villagers have a traditional way of choosing the appropriate people – during a village meeting the subject will be broached and the announcement made for people to step up; silence ensues until someone randomly shouts out another villager’s name and it is immediately seconded before any arguments can be made; then being decided, no one has to worry about the responsibility any more because now it’s so-and-so’s job.

For obvious reasons, being that I wanted the project to succeed, I decided to be a bit more deliberate about forming our committee so I called a meeting and invited a dozen or so individuals who spend nearly every day on the water, who know the area well and who would likely be the most interested in helping the project. I was showing a DVD on coral reef ecosystems in Fiji and apparently word got around that we would be running a generator to watch a movie because roughly 60 people showed up including children with pillows and of course grog. It was a regular movie night and, well, I guess the more awareness we do the better!

The following meeting was more successful as far as getting things accomplished; we managed to form a committee of interested individuals and proceeded to assign each one a role (leader, secretary, etc). The next day we started phase two – transect surveys.

Step 2: The baseline surveys

To get an idea for the overall health of the reef ecosystem that existed throughout our fishing grounds we, as a committee, went out on the water for two days to conduct surveys. Based on previous experience and having gleaned some useful knowledge from local resources, I devised a transect survey that considered four aspects of the environment to determine overall health:

            1) Corals – quantity and sizes; living vs dead; bleaching and disease

            2) Algae – quantity and patch size

                        - The more algae the less available real estate for coral

3) Invertebrates – giant clams, conch shells, crown-of-thorns sea stars, sea cucumbers

            - These first two being both ecologically important and thoroughly overfished

            - The COT sea stars are becoming over populated in our area and destroying                          corals

            - Sea cucumbers are also being heavily fished for their export value to China

            4) Fish – top predators (shark, barracuda, trevally, grouper) and butterfly fish

                        - Top predators are indicative of a healthy trophic system and thus ecosystem

                        - The presence of butterfly fish as corallivores indicates healthy coral growth

I created a makeshift underwater slate for each of these categories by stapling scrap water proof paper (that I had left over from an old school notebook) to peace corps provided laminated cards I would otherwise have used in an AIDS awareness session. Slapped a pencil onto each and voila. The transect I made by evenly hammering pieces of lead onto a 50ft length of clothesline that my brother sent me. Perfect leaded line!

One person per slate, we swam along the transect line up one side and observed our respective categories for 2 meters out from the line. Then we repeated this by swimming back up along the other side. Our entire fishing grounds (qoliqoli) is approximately 15 square kilometers, unfortunately, we only had enough boat time to complete 14 transects in randomly chosen spots throughout the qoliqoli. 

Coral that we hope may recover with some time under protection from feet and anchors.

About to go spearfish some lunch! Doing so many transect surveys can be make you hungry.

Nothing better than some fresh fish for lunch.

Sadly, I don't have any pictures of us doing transects or of the materials we used. All these pictures were taken on different trips but were more or less the same as the survey days.

Step 3: Choosing the area to protect

Once we completed our surveys, we compiled the data and, using a self designed ranking system, rated the health of the surveyed areas. We wanted to include healthy coral reef areas in our MPAs so that the damaged areas would have more success at efficient recovery (see # 4 below). But we didn’t simply make our decision for location based on this. We followed a list of seven criteria put out by NOAA, University of the South Pacific, and the FLMMA (Fiji Locally Managed Marine Area) Network:

            1) Include all different types of habitat in the managed/protected area

            2) Have several similar areas protected

            3) Protect areas that may be more resistant to hazard damage (bleach, cyclones, etc.)

            4) Protect more healthy areas over damaged areas

5) The areas should be big enough – at least 1/5 of the entire qoliqoli, with a minimum perimeter of 1 km x 0.5 km if possible

6) There should be buffer areas of spillover

7) Should include some permanent sites

Google map image showing the tabu areas and the locations of each transect survey we conducted to evaluate the reef health and choose locations.

On Boxing Day in the midst of festive meals, dancing, and grog parties, we met as a committee and hashed out our proposed tabu areas. These we then presented at the next mataqali (term for clan; most of the villagers are in the mataqali and there is only one in our village, everyone else is married in; the mataqali  makes all the decisions regarding land usage in the village) meeting, which was approximately three weeks later. After this it was presented at the bose va koro (village meeting) where it was discussed openly between all members of the village.

We had created a shoddy hand drawn map during our group sessions that we had used as a prop to discuss with at the meetings. During the bose va koro some villagers took the map at one point and started to draw new lines on it in different locations. Of course they were going back and forth in rapid Fijian, so I couldn’t really understand what the conversation was about until they turned to me and asked if it would be alright to create a second tabu area in this new location they demarcated (see the temporary tabu area on the map below).

…umm, yeah, that would be swell - !

Definitely not my shoddy hand drawn map showing the permanent (larger red area) and temporary tabu areas. Although it's not highlighted, the dark green area next to the permanent tabu shows all the mangroves that are also under protection.

Step 4: Get approval from the big guy

Well, we had succeeded in spreading awareness throughout the village and getting their overall support but it didn’t mean anything unless we got approval from the chief of chiefs of our province – Turagabale na Tui Cakau. He lives on Taveuni, the next island over.

It took another three months before we managed to raise enough money for our group to present our request to Tui Cakau. In the mean time, we went around to the families in the surrounding settlements and discussed our proposal with them to spread awareness and garner further support and respect.

On April 4^th, we went for two days to Taveuni to make our case. In our traveling entourage we had two members or our committee, our village chief (who was crucial for speaking to Tui Cakau), a member of a nearby settlement who generously agreed to provide us with a whale’s tooth to offer during the ceremony, a giant sevusevu of bundled grog, and one squealing pig. Upon arrival on Taveuni we would be collecting ten pre-prepared bundles of dalo to present also.

Well, the pig died en route. We forgot the grog at the departing ferry landing point. Someone somehow forgot to call and tell anyone we were coming so there was no dalo ready for us and Tui Cakau was in meetings all day. Incredibly my two accompanying committee members pulled through by hiking into the bush and pulling three whole yagona trees and enough dalo needed to make the ten bundles (which they then did); they carried all this back down by themselves and proceeded to clean and prepare the recently deceased pig for cooking in an underground oven, which they also constructed on the spot.

By the time Tui Cakau was ready to see us it was almost 9 pm and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. A friend had agreed to drive us up to the big guy’s compound in his taxi and he apparently really meant drive us up. Tui Cakau’s compound is at the top of a small mountain and is only reachable by a narrow dirt road with steep drop offs on either side most of the way up. When we turned off the main road to start our ascent it looked as though we were driving into a wall, the grade was so steep. The torrential down pour was causing small, yellow rivulets of liquid mud to carve its way down the road; its pace seemed to be increasing. Sitting soaked in the backseat because my window was broken open, I was trying to see out the windshield with only one wiper half working just waiting for the dim headlights to jostle their way onto a tree or point suddenly in a downward position because the mud river we were driving up in this guy’s cab had finally swept us off the edge. 

After a few more minutes of speculating at our eminent demise, we arrived at the top and were greeted by an official big guy representative. Thirty seconds later we’ve turned around and are rafting our way back down the Yangtze because we were told that Tui Cakau couldn’t meet with us after all. Now normally this is when I would start to politely protest or aggressively demand that we do something because of all that it took for us to get here and we won’t be able to make this trip again anytime soon…dammit. But I’ve learned to just keep my mouth shut and see how events unfold themselves and low and behold when we had reached the taxi driver’s house again, where we were all staying, we got a call saying a rep would come down to us so we could do our presentation. 

After the gift presenting ceremony, my chief presented our proposal while I sat next to him acting the necessary part of a wall flower and just hoping everything was being said right. Well, we received our approval in the traditional sense and were told that Tui Cakau supported the plan but it wouldn’t be officially recognized until we present it at the next provincial qoliqoli meeting to be held the end of June. That way leaders throughout the province would know about it, could discuss it and agree as a group to support it. 

Yaqona root to be presented to Tui Cakau.

Our dead pig, prepared and presented to the rep for Tui Cakau along with the freshly pulled yaqona root, the two whales teeth (tabua), and the 10 bundles of dalo root in order to traditionally and respectfully request permission and support for establishing the tabu areas.

Step 5: Meetings and awareness

We had close to another three months to kill before we would be getting our official approval at this meeting so we tried to keep ourselves occupied by working on the bylaws for our entire qoliqoli, which would naturally include the restrictions for the tabu areas. We had two of our villagers attend a four day training to become Honorary Fish Wardens recognized under Federal Fijian Law. Naturally, I had to attend and get certified as well ;). We used the information we had gleaned on national fishing laws and considered what the village wished for its fishing grounds and used these to write the qoliqoli bylaws.

Working in teams at the Honorary Fish Warden Training to discuss and present destructive fishing methods.

All the newly certified Honorary Fish Wardens! My certificate is hanging in my kitchen.

Walota and Akuila - our two village fish wardens

When June finally came around my group was eager to get provincial approval so we could move on to demarcating the boundary lines. At the right moment, I was shuffled to the front to kneel in front of Tui Cakau to make our case once again but this time the presentation would be geared more towards the other leaders present. It was a bit awkward to do this because it’s apparently extremely tabu to turn your back on Tui Cakau, but he’s sitting at the front with everyone facing him. So my presentation to the attending leaders was made facing away from them. I had to hold my map behind me until my turaga ni koro came up to hold it for me.

Provincial Qoliqoli meeting held in June where our plans for establishing tabu areas was officially and publicly presented and requested of Tui Cakau (he's the one sitting in front of everyone in the back of the picture).

When I was done there was some discussion and what seemed like arguing but I was having difficulty following it or even seeing who was speaking. Eventually, Tui Cakau spoke. He thanked me for our project and the presentation and said that there was general support all around but said the group does have concerns about the supply of food for the local people if we cordon off these areas. He requested that we have a secondary meeting to follow up with the leaders in our direct area to discuss further and to determine if establishing the tabu areas would be directly beneficial to the people or not.

My time for speaking was over. So I had to simply sit and listen to what was said and to thank them once it was concluded. When all I really wanted to do was just debunk all these concerns they had right then and there so we could speak of it, discuss it and be done with it once and for all without drawing it out into more meetings and ceremony. But my respect for these people and their culture held me back, so it was back to the waiting game. 

 *Article from the meeting:

Fiji Times - Taboo to enrich qoliqoli

Step 6: Clarifying the benefits of tabu areas

When I heard people saying that they are afraid to implement a tabu area because that would mean they wouldn’t have fish any more I felt terrible. I felt like I didn’t even remotely do a fair job of getting the point across about the benefits of a tabu area.

Our village turaga ni koro and I on our way to Naweni Village for one of our outreach marine and tabu area awareness trips.

So I tried to make very concise points based on the resources I had available to me and present these to people every chance I had, including at those aforementioned follow up meetings. The Ministry of Fisheries even came to the village for a partnered workshop on marine awareness at which we hosted representatives from villages all up and down the coast from us.

• Protecting just 1/5 of your qoliqoli with the minimum size dimensions of 1 km x 0.5 km will increase your fish catch in the remaining fishing grounds by 60 % within the first three years.
• The boundary is for us, not the fish. They have a protected area to spawn and for juveniles to grow but they don’t know it’s protected; they’ll still swim in and out at will. As more juvenile fish grow and fill up the tabu, the amount that swim out will continue to increase. It’s the spill over effect.
• Protecting the mangroves is crucial for two reasons – 1) mangroves are prime real estate for fish nurseries and will greatly increase the efficiency of the tabu area recovering fish populations; 2) everything we do on land has an impact on the sea- using herbicides/pesticides, burning mangrove trees, throwing trash and other wastes, penning pigs within the mangroves, all of it washes to the ocean potentially increasing the nutrient content and instigating algal blooms, which can out compete corals.
• We want more than one tabu area primarily to benefit marine organisms that are sessile (fixed in one place) that adopt broadcast spawning as their method of reproduction. One of the more threatened species in our waters is the giant clam, a broadcast spawner. Say that there’s one clam in the protected area and it releases its eggs and sperm into the current; if no other clams exist close enough down stream (because they’ve all been fished out) then reproduction won’t occur. Having two tabu areas within relative proximity increases the recovery possibilities of organisms such as these.
• The combined protected marine and terrestrial habitat from our two tabu areas is roughly 5.43 km². This sounds like a lot until you consider that the entire village owned fishing grounds is nearly three times this size, which allows for ample opportunity to fish elsewhere.
• The most important point I tried to impress upon all my audiences is that recovery and benefits may start off slow but that’s no reason to scrap the project; sometimes it takes a small sacrifice now to glean greater benefits in the future. This concept is one that many here struggle to grasp – they don’t see beyond today; they don’t consider future generations, what they’re leaving for their children

Presenting our tabu area project to members of villagers from up and down the coast participating in the marine awareness training that our village hosted.

Some of our villagers presenting about threats to the marine environment and possible solutions at the marine awareness training in the village.  

Member of the Ministry of Fisheries assisting our project by acquiring GPS coordinates during the marine awareness training.

Following these awareness sessions, we attended the next provincial qoliqoli meeting just last week. Again concerns were raised about our tabu areas and tabus in general but this time they gave me an opportunity to respond. And respond I did. When I was finished talking there was not a hand raised in the house. After that there was discussion about other villages wanting to establish tabu areas as well. Tui Cakau asked if the province could use the bylaws that we created in our village as guidelines for other villages looking to structure their qoliqoli and to properly establish tabu areas.

At the end of the meeting he requested to speak with me in private. Well as private as you can be when you are sitting in front of an entire crowd of people who were all trying to look busy. He shook my hand and thanked me for the work that we were doing with our project; he said that this is what the province really needs is something concrete and in black and white – structure, a guide, a means to help the villagers protect their marine resources and clear reasoning as to how such actions will help. He told me he is happy that my village is happy and wondered if he could burden me to do some workshops with other villages looking to set up tabu areas, because it’s good to conserve our environment like this - we have to look to the future after all. He paused and smiled at me. Deciding that bursting into tears of joy would qualify as overreacting, I simply said that I would be happy to help.

So within the coming month I will be traveling with two members of my committee to conduct workshops on how to set up a locally managed marine protected area. Who knows how far this chain reaction can go.

Step 7: Demarcation

We officially placed our first set of boundary markers on August 9^th. I say first set because right now they are simply sticks with white flags stapled to them and we are hoping to replace them with buoys if we can collect enough of them.

Villagers placing sticks in dead coral and boulders to use as initial boundary markers.

Placing the boundary markers.

Zebra shark in the tabu area :)

Searching for appropriate holes to place the boundary markers in and we found an octopus!

Dinner!

The day we went out we were joined by the talatala (our district’s Methodist priest) who blessed the boundary markers and more or less made the start of our tabu area official. Naturally, upon completion of this task we hunkered down for a long night of grog drinking, guitar playing, and overall celebration.

The talatala (Methodist preacher) blessing the official demarcation of our tabu areas. This act more or less solidifies the tabu areas as being complete.

Step 8: And now?

And now what? Well, aside from trying to tweak things like the boundary markers and attain things like binoculars for monitoring purposes, we are looking to develop our tabu areas by starting giant clam and sea cucumber breeding programs. If we manage to take off with these two projects they will primarily be used to recover native depleted populations and then eventually they will be used as an income generating activity (particularly with the sea cucumbers). By farming these guys instead, we can better protect native populations and the villagers will still be able to earn money from them that can be used on other development projects.

Whew. Ok, if you made it all the way to the end here and somehow it still wasn’t enough for you feel free to contact me to see more pictures, our qoliqoli bylaws or the data analysis from our transect surveys, or if you simply want to impart any advice!

The San Antonios Come to Fiji!

It has been over a year since I last saw those parents of mine and infrequent calls of patchy service were just not cutting it. So happily, after months of discussion and hypothesizing they were finally stepping off the plane and being punched in the face with a wall of humidity. Or at least that’s how I imagined it. But apparently it was actually more humid back home… yikes.

They were to arrive in the Savusavu airport (it’s saying something that the one landing strip is paved) at 8:30 am on the morning of July 2^nd, a Monday … and who ever said good things don’t happen on Mondays?

I wanted to surprise them by being at the airport when they arrived, which meant that I had to get down to Savusavu the night before and hoof it to the landing strip the morning of. As the taxi was careening down the final hill, I noticed a van full of white people drive by in the opposite direction – Jean-Michel Cousteau Fiji Islands Resort… oh crap. Did the plane land early? It was only 8 am! The one time that anything happens early in Fiji, I get screwed! We arrive and I jump out of the car and start running around asking people if the Koro Sun van has already come and gone, completely forgetting to pay the cabbie. Apparently, there was another flight expected to land within a half an hour, which completely dumbfounded me that there would even be more than one flight in a day. Relieved, I plopped down to wait in some inconspicuous corner and began talking with this Fijian woman selling jewelry. I told her all about how I was meeting my parents after it had been so long and that I wanted to hide and surprise them when they came in, so she agreed to be my look out.

The plane lands and my new friend is giving me a blow by blow of what’s happening – it’s coming to a stop; the doors are opening; there are people coming down; what does your mom look like? Oh I see her! She’s off the plane! She’s running! She’s looking all around!

She is? But she doesn’t know I’m here! Then she came running in and sprinted right past me. I turned and followed her heading and then it became abundantly clear – bathroom. My dad followed shortly behind her. Well, I certainly didn’t want to interfere with that prerogative, don’t want any excited accidents to happen ;).

My mom emerged first and began walking towards me smiling. I thought she saw me but apparently she was just walking and smiling in relief and I had to practically hug her for her to see me. When she did it was like an explosion, she just erupts into tears and hugs me hard enough to crack a few ribs. When dad came out it was much the same except a little less wet. My Fijian friend was very pleased.

At the airport <3

Our first stay was at Koro Sun Resort, just a short trip out of town. It was only a one night rest stop before the intensity of the village the following day and it should have been comfortable and relaxing. Well, the place may have looked nice but it was hardly a 4 star in my opinion, particularly the part about waking up with a cockroach on me in my bed. I mean I can get that in the village for free!… not really their best amenity.

Mom at Koro Sun

Well we occupied ourselves as much as possible during that time by eating and drinking and taking a tour of Savusavu town, which took all of three minutes.

Shortly after arrival at Koro Sun

Tuesday – the village. The bus was late coming from Savusavu by about an hour and a half. My plan of forcing my parents to experience the real Fiji was succeeding thus far. When our stop came and we got all of their bags off, most of which were passed out through the windows (it is and open air bus) we were alone. Well, time to hike in to my house, which is maybe a quarter mile from the main road. I think there was something like eight bags between us. We managed pretty well and once we got passed the second house villagers came running out of their homes to offer assistance and meet the parents. Most of our bags were lifted off of us and the rest of the walk was easy (why don’t they ever help me with all my bags when I hike home after being away?).

Riding the late bus to the village

Three days basically flew by. Plenty of food eaten, plenty of grog drank, gifts exchanged, water snorkeled, school visited. It really was a whirlwind in which it would be impossible for mom and dad to truly grasp life in the village but at least they got the chance to see it, to meet the people, and of course to drink the grog. They brought some of this delicious staple home with them in the event that you want to experience the mouth twisting sensation yourself. 

Playing guitar and singing with my mom at home.

Drinking grog!

When we first arrived, I performed their sevusevu, which is the traditional offering of kava root made by visitors to the chief in order to visit/stay in the village. It was all in Fijian and a good friend of mine wrote it up in advanced and I basically memorized it, but my chief was all giddy at the situation of Tina performing a sevusevu, which is also traditionally performed by men.

Eventually the short visit came to a close and we were finally leaving for a bit of real retreat on the beautiful little island of Qamea. I was so relieved to be done liaising and being put on the spot and was thoroughly ready for some anonymity.

In order to stay a second night in the village mom and dad had to cancel our flight from Savusavu to Taveuni (the intermediary island next to Qamea) and we were just going to take the bus up from my village to the ferry landing point about an hour away and take the hour long ferry across to Taveuni instead. This is not only cheaper but it’s also more of a real mode of travel. I really wanted them to see what transportation was like in Fiji. Be careful what you wish for…

The bus was late but I wasn’t worried since the ferry waits for the ferry bus to arrive before departing. Well, arrive we did and wait it did not. When we got there the wharf was crowded with people being noisy and generally disgruntled looking. I pushed my way up to the dock man and inquired as to what the hell was going on.

Dock man - We’re full.

Me - You’re full.

Dock man (nods) - We’re full.

Me - You’re full?!

Dock man - Yes, we’re full!

…uh-oh

Maybe not the most articulate conversation I’ve ever had but I think the long forgotten sensation of panic was starting to well up inside and I had quite forgotten how to deal with stress as such. There was only one boat docked. It only makes one trip in a day and docks for the night on Taveuni, the bus that just dropped us at the wharf had already left and was headed back to Savusavu for the night. We were in the middle of no where. I had no cell phone service. And this was ridiculous! Never in the history of this ferry running had it ever been full! (ok, maybe I’m just basing that exclamation on the three times I’ve traveled on it but I think most Fijians would agree with me that it’s rarely at capacity). Who the hell filled up the boat anyway? I tried to banter with the dock man some more but to no avail. When I asked him if there was another boat coming for the rest of us he just stared at me while standing on the boat and didn’t say a thing. He was still staring as they pushed off and left.

Now, if I was by myself I would not be inwardly freaking out. By myself, it would be no big deal to sleep under a tree or more likely find a family in some village somewhere to adopt me for the night. But having my parents there put my stress into overdrive. I was worried about them and concerned about them not having a good vacation. At the very least they were definitely experiencing what it’s like to travel in a developing country, things like this are par for the course in getting anywhere out here.

And then in typical Fiji fashion a solution materialized out of nowhere in the form of two white people who arrived after us and had chartered a boat from the resort they were staying with on Taveuni. They managed to fit all 25-30 of us still standing on the dock onto their boat and we were off.

When we got there all the taxis that usually wait for the ferry boat people were gone. We were just wondering how we would make it to our rendezvous point with the resort transport when a man we had been riding on the boat with told us he used to work at that resort and with a few quick well placed phone calls had our resort transport on its way to the wharf to pick us up!

Relief.

I was fairly silent for the drive around Taveuni, just savoring the peace of not having to think. We pulled up to Qeleni village where the boat transfers over to Qamea Island and hopped out of the van, all of us except mom. She was still sitting inside looking ill. I thought maybe she was feeling car sick from the bumpy ride. It wasn’t until we were on the boat that she turns to me and confesses that when we pulled up in Qeleni village she thought that we had arrived. Apparently, she forgot that the Qamea Island Resort and Spa was on Qamea Island… only mom would think that the village was our swanky hotel!

Beach on Qamea

Me and dad!

Our stay was phenomenal. The place was beautiful; the food was amazing (I think I had salmon everyday) and the people were great. We did a bunch of activities to keep us busy like hiking to waterfalls, snorkeling, or getting the best massages of our lives. It was exactly what I needed to feel normal again. At some point I gave up trying to be anonymous, seeing as how the staff all knew I was a Peace Corps volunteer and could speak Fijian. But it was rather entertaining for me to go back and forth with them when my parents couldn’t understand.

Part of our bure

Dad learning how to scrape a coconut to get the coconut milk

River crossing...they had this rope you were supposed to hold but that's just silly

Swimming at the waterfall

Tragically, we had to leave a night earlier than planned because I had to dash off to training the following day and with the flights as they were would never have made it to the pick-up in time. Or at least on paper I wouldn’t have but then this is Fiji we’re talking about and the pick-up was two hours late anyway. But on the upside I got to show them around Suva, if you can call seeing Suva an upside. I took them to the giant open air market so they could buy their grog to bring home, which would have been a daunting task, but I sought out some local friends selling at a nearby table and we were instantly transported to the sellers of the best grog for the best price. It’s good to have connections and in Fiji that’s all there is.

We wanted to spend as much time together as possible before I had to leave for the pick-up to training, which meant that our tearful goodbye took place on the first floor of the MHCC shopping complex. I managed not to cry. It’s not that I wasn’t sad but I decided that crying wouldn’t improve my situation any and that I didn’t want the other volunteers to be concerned when I met them shortly thereafter. But that didn’t stop my parents from letting the tears fall. Apparently, there was another volunteer in the mall that walked by the scene on his way up to the office. He said he didn’t know it was me but remembered thinking that there were some really sad white people in the MHCC.

So, thus ended our vacation together. It wasn’t the most ridiculous adventure any of us had had but it was really wonderful to get the chance to share my life here with my mom and dad. I know they had a great time and I hope they know that I did too. And if any of you want to come visit I will make you feel at home and cook my delicious tuna burgers with bananas.