Ovalau Island (Fiji

Ovalau Island

Historic island of the South Pacific (FIJI)

BY: ANDREW MARSHALL

After only five minutes of flying time from the Fiji capital of Suva, I spotted Ovalau. Through the windows of the 16-seater Twin Otter plane, the volcanic island soon filled my view with immense ragged peaks of the interior cloaked in verdant greens plunging to mangrove forests on the coast. There were small villages nestled in coral-fringed bays, and patchworks of taro and cassava fields spreading around shiny tin roofs with the occasional thatched bure (Fijian word for a wood and straw hut).

We swooped down into what almost seemed like a tangle of mangroves before we saw the airstrip which looked more like an extended cricket pitch. Welcome to Ovalau, a tiny island off the east coast of Viti Levu, whose historical importance more than makes up for its lack of size. Levuka town is the focal point of the island and is saturated in historical significance. European traders first settled here in the early 1830s. They were a colorful mob of sailors, whalers, beachcombers and sandalwood gatherers. It wasn’t long before the town became a thriving port where clapboard shops lined the main street, and pubs of much notoriety opened on every corner.

Back then it must have been a wild old town. It was said that captains could navigate their vessels to Levuka by following the line of floating rum bottles. 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 which lasted day and night. In 1871, the same year that the Kingdom of Fiji was established, Levuka became the Capital, however it wasn’t until 1873, when King Cakabau ceded Fiji to Great Britain from the shores of Ovalau, that law and order finally arrived at this South Seas outpost.

Since 1881 when the capital was moved to Suva, Levuka has reverted to a tranquil backwater, and is perhaps the most laid back in all the Fijian islands. Its history however is overwhelming, from the Cession Stones where Fiji was first handed to the British, to the colorful clapboard Victorian architecture of the main street, and the genteel but somewhat dilapidated colonial opulence of the

As I booked into the Royal Hotel‚ my gaze was captured by the extravagant hibiscus blooms that filled pots and vases everywhere, as well as 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 the table imported from England.

For my initial exploration of Levuka, I enlisted the services of local guide Henry Sahai, and soon realized that taking to the streets with Henry was the best way to meet everyone in town, as every few meters someone would call ‘Bula Henry’ and stop for a chat. Love and pride for his hometown glowed in 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.

Back at the Royal Hotel, I was introduced to Fiji’s alternative to a sunset beer or cocktail. Happy hour is kava hour, and every evening at 6 p.m. the tanoa (a traditional four-legged wooden bowl carved from wood) is placed on the bar for everyone to help themselves. Drinking kava (also known as yaqona) is an age-old ceremony and social custom that is alive and well in the Fijian islands.

The drink is an infusion made from the pounded roots of the piper methysticum shrub. When it is first offered, it’s considered rude to refuse, and because it is famous for looking and tasting worse than muddy water, it’s a challenge many

travelers to Fiji will face. When it is offered you clap once, then quaff the bilo (coconut cup) of kava down in one go followed by three claps. A handful of locals inside the Royal Hotel took evident delight at my grimaces of distaste as I dutifully gulped down my first bowl of kava.

So what are the effects? Kava is fast being recognized for its stressreducing capabilities. America and Germany are now buying vast quantities from Pacific countries for their lucrative health products market where it is sold in capsule form. On the home front in Fiji, one bilo of kava is enough to cause a numbing of the lips and tongue. If copious quantities are drunk, it can induce a euphoric drowsiness.

Feeling noticeably relaxed after a couple of bilos of kava, my attention was caught by a crumpled manila folder on the Royal Hotel’s reception desk titled ‘Sign here for Epi’s Lovoni Tour.’ I had heard about the legendary Lovoni tribe and how they had never been defeated by the warlord King Cakobau, holding out in their fortress village high in the caldera of an extinct volcano. I quickly signed up for the tour for the following day.

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 but victorious back at the Royal Hotel for a celebratory ice cold beer.

Ten kilometers from Levuka is the Devokula Cultural Village. This traditional Fijian village in every sense was originally set up about 20 years ago by Jeramaia Tukituku, a visionary whose aim was to maintain the rapidly disappearing ways of his ancestors, and to create jobs for his people using traditional skills. Today the village of thatched living bures, meeting houses, craftworking areas and the towering bure kalau (spirit house) which are 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 while in the village.

What a day it was! An enormous communal lunch was served using hands for cutlery and mats for seats while everything was cooked in the lovo (earth oven). There was time to swim and snorkel before meke. “Wasah Meke!!”, Devokula’s leading meke dancer screamed, while 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.

Meke is the traditional style of dance and 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 wonderful harmonious voices), and the women’s dances which were done seated using their hands and upper body in a series of graceful moves whereby every movement had a story to tell.

After my evening meal, just when I thought things couldn’t get better, out came the ukulele, tea-chest bass, the guitar and drum. Many hours later I finally stumbled into my own bure for a blissful kava-induced sleep beneath the thatch. Words are inadequate to describe just how peaceful it is to fall asleep to the soft songs of the villagers and to wake at dawn to the sounds of thousands of tiny fish leaping across the surface of the Pacific Ocean. All the people connected with Devokula can be justifiably proud of their village project. The wonderful people of Devokula, Lovoni and Levuka on the island of Ovalau really exemplify the very best of cultural tourism in Fiji that operates on a village level and warmly opens its arms to the world.