Yawa Island

Two and a half hours on the Yasawa Flyer, a big yellow jet boat, gets you past the Mamanuca Island group and out to the mid section of the Yasawa Islands to Yawa Island and the Octopus Resort, also known as pure paradise. Tucked into the hillside, and guarded somewhat from the wind, the resort boasts a beautiful white sand beach strewn with a variety of corals, lined with palms, and hosting a health reef teaming with a vibrant variety of tropical fish and anemone. The resort is quite classy with a laid back, friendly vibe. The bures are beautifully constructed with great attention to detail, using locally sourced materials including bamboo and intricate palm weaving. You're best off barefoot here, as the main dining area has a sand floor. All the walk ways are lined with hibiscus and frangipani, sweetening the hot humid air. 
 

 

  

The day I arrived happened to be the annual staff Christmas party- hard to wrap my sweaty head around the the fact that it's the holiday season. All the children came in from the local village for a special lunch and games. Feeling like death, and with half a voice, I elected to take a nap in hopes of salvaging the rest of the day- a good decision. (Maybe I can count this as a sick day, rather than vacation day from work?!)

In the late afternoon, all the village elders came and gathered for a Yakona ceremony, playing traditional songs on guitar and ukulele, singing in the kinds of rough throated harmonies only weathered old dudes can make. It was really special. I joined in for a bit, making new friends. 

   After a fancy BBQ dinner there was a band from Suva playing island beats all night long, with all the staff and local villagers dancing, laughing and drinking lots of kava. It was wild! 

Up bright and early for church at the village- a short one mile hike up and over the hillside led by Tai Voli "grandpa". The elders here are limber and well built with open hips from sitting cross legged during evening Yakona ceremonies and strong legs from traversing the landscape. 

   Church service was filled with a passionate sermon in Fijian, choir singing, and little boys sitting in front of me being total rascals- non stop flicking each others ears, slapping behind the head and other shenanigans. Classic!  The collection basket went around, and we all gave generously. 

Women here are required to cover shoulders and knees, and most locals were in their Sunday best- light cotton dresses for the ladies, and colorful dress shirts and formal skirts for the men. All the villagers go barefoot, or maybe flip flops on occasion. The men's feet especially, develop large, wide toed, and callused. The generator was out, so there were no fans and the church felt truly like a sauna. I nearly had to excuse myself for fear of passing out. I was able to fan myself with a folded up crossword puzzle I'd stashed in my purse, but was jealous of the large woven hand fans the women had. I inquired about these later, and my new local pal, Lacey, brought me a couple the next day.

The village is quite simple, with the only real constructed buildings being the church and the school house. The family homes are not much more than shacks with separate woodfire makeshift stoves.  

    

Met a friendly little pig pal on my hike back to the village...

 

In stark contrast to church at the village, I spent the rest of the day treating myself to a traditional Fijian head massage in an effort to ease my congestion and heal... then a pedicure, and another full body massage- all in a lovely facility and accompanied by plates of fresh pineapple, watermelon, and papaya. The price was right, the weather had turned sour, and I needed some healing touch.