Blake and Deb in Fiji: Return to Labasa

Yesterday we returned to Labasa for the day. Semoko came with us and we stopped first at his village to say hello to his mom and, as it turned out, a couple of the kids who somehow managed to use the excuse of an earlier rainstorm to skip school to see us. After a brief chat and a cup of tea the three of us plus one of the children – seven year old Robert – walked into town, passing through some residential areas along the way and stopping by a couple of temples. Further into town we parted ways with Semoko who had some shopping to do, and agreed to meet up with him again at the Farmer’s Market. Young Robert stayed with us. Deborah’s efforts to draw the well-behaved but very quiet Robert into conversation were largely unsuccessful – probably not so much because of Robert’s shyness, but rather because of his lack of English. After touring the market and watching for Semoko, waiting for what seemed to us a long time – although I think Fijians have a much greater capacity to wait than we impatient Americans do – we finally gave up and took a taxi back to the village to drop off Robert.

We returned to town and the market, again finding no sign of Semoko, so we went ahead and ate lunch at a nice little vegetarian Indian restaurant. We emerged from the eatery to find Semoko standing on the sidewalk. He tried to help me in my fruitless search to find a Hindu calendar (I like the images) but ended up only with some tiny illustrated Hindu books. Semoko hadn’t eaten yet so we suggested he try the same restaurant we ate at, but they didn’t have his requisite fish and chips (he ALWAYS orders fish and chips) so he had to find an alternative establishment.

Labasa isn’t a tourist town at all and there wasn’t much else for us to see, so we did a lot more waiting around for the next bus. I was panhandled for the first time in Fiji, a total of three times that day. I must have stood out like a tall white ATM machine in a sea of dark skin. It was surprising because we’ve never seen anyone begging in Savusavu. While sitting on the bus at the depot waiting to head home we saw Semoko’s sister Caroline and two of his nephews walk by, including young Robert. I’m not sure why we bothered to hire a taxi to take him to the village when he just ended up back in town again. The nephews successfully begged a few coins from Semoko, so I wasn’t the only one to get panhandled that day – I just wasn’t related to my beggars.

The distance between Savusavu and Labasa is only 85 km (51 mi) but it took 2 hrs 40 min to get there and nearly 3 hours to get back. That’s a long time to sit on a bus. There were certainly numerous stops along the way, but another major contributor to the length of the journey is the snail’s pace at which the noisy old buses crawl up the inclines. Deborah thinks we could have gotten out and walked faster. Taxi’s take a third as much time but cost more than six times as much.

At one stop on our return trip we took on a mass of school kids of various ages, all dressed smartly in their school uniforms and little backpacks. Deborah was happy to put one of the smaller girls on her lap to free up an additional seat for a tired-looking woman, and was reluctant to give the little girl up when her departure stop came. We found it interesting how the bus drivers don’t bother to close the bus door, even when the bus is packed and there is someone standing on the very bottom door step hanging on to whatever he can. After seeing that I was glad for our seats, no matter how sore our backsides had become on our interminable journey.