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August 12, 1999
Tarawa Basecamp. Update #4
Tarawa update 4. August 12th, 1999
Farewell to Tarawa (for now anyway)
I'm actually writing this in Fiji having flown from Tarawa this morning on the first leg of my trip back to the US. The harsh reality of outstanding satellite bills for the last voyage needing to be paid has finally drawn my month-long stay to a close. I am sad to go. Now its back to air-conditioned nightmare for a while to try and break even financially - perhaps the most challenging part of the whole voyage.
Fiji is wet and absolutely freezing. I'm lying in bed of one of the rooms of the 'Melanesian' - a budget hotel used by Kiribati seamen passing through to and from their postings, and for local whores to ply a fair trade from booze-loosened wallets. I always seem to end up in these sort of places - like in Central America. They're seedy, and bursting with both character and characters alike which makes for more interesting journal reading later on. But there is a price to be paid for such memoirs. Having gone a month taking only cold showers, I was drooling with the anticipation of soaking under a thundering torrent of hot water. This also offered a quick fix solution to my crisis in body temperature. However, after standing naked and shivering on the stone cold slab of the shower floor for 10 minutes waiting for hot water to pull through, I was finally greeted by a volume of flow - which at first had looked so promising - now no more than a scalding dribble. After another 10 minutes of this sorry excuse for a 'thundering torrent' peeing on the back of my neck, I've retired to bed in disgust. It seems like I'll just have to wait till I'm back in the US to fulfill my hot and steamy fantasy.
As well as being cold, Fiji - contrary to my expectations - is also very, very different to Tarawa. I think I have the archetypal image of silhouetted palm trees bowing over lagoon sunsets as a branding iron for the entire south Pacific. The reality is that Fiji is more than just a strip of sand sticking out of the sea. There is soil here, so no lack of fresh produce. I had my first veggie meal since getting off the boat that didn't consist primarily of onions and garlic (good news really as I was starting to see the effects of malnutrition - in the form of boils breaking out on my legs). There is also a Macdonald's, advertising billboards, a BP petrol station selling Cadbury's Fruit and Nut chocolate, traffic heavy enough to make crossing the road a feat, men that wear skirts, pushy Indians and fewer smiles ready to break out on a stranger's face - than on Tarawa. I'm missing that tiny wisp of coral sand already, with its super friendly people, its mangy dogs, its grunting pigs, its octopus drying in the sun after the early morning's catch, its delightful children, and of course the stage on which everything is set - its turquoise lagoon of shimmering glass. Farewell Tarawa - for now at least. We'll see you next year after the typhoon season in the Solomon Islands has ended and get to pick up this story again.
It leaves me to thank a few key people from the last few weeks. Namely; Tamaaia Ereata, David Craddock and all the staff and students at the Tarawa Technical Institute for providing free rent for Moksha; Joanne and JAMES for providing me with free rent: all the staff and children at Dai Nippon Primary, Rurubao Primary, KGV High and Moroni High schools for organising visits to the see Moksha and getting involved with the various cultural exchange programs. Also - too many to mention here (and I can't spell half the names either) - are the many other people of Tarawa who have - in the own individual ways - become a part of the ongoing odyssey. Thanks for a wonderful stay.
Jason
Posted on August 12, 1999 6:23 AM