Ann and I spent the day in the village today. For me, carving my second bowl. For Ann, helping to teach the ladies how to sew dresses.

Orcinius John and Lisa brought a new hand-crank Singer sewing machine and a bunch of fabric. Ann knows how to make dresses, so the combination was a hit! Linda from Bright Angel joined in as well with her expertise showing the ladies how to deconstruct an existing dress to make a pattern. Between everyone a new dress was born! Uni was the proud recipient because the dress was about a size 12 and she is just about the only 12 in the village. I think tomorrow they are going to have to work on “sizing up” considerably for most of the rest of the ladies.

I spent the day sitting cross-legged as per usual in Niko’s carving area with my carving mentor Jotele Kororua who is known to us as Joe. His name in Fijian means “Of Two Villages”. I have worked with wood since I built my first sailboat – an eight foot El Toro – when I was 14, but Joe has taught me some things about carving, not the least of which is patience. I tend to cut too fast and too deep wanting to get to the final shape as soon as possible. Joe, on the other hand, roughs out the shape he’s looking for and then refines it several times until it’s down to the final size. In the long run his method is faster and more pleasing as any mistakes he might make can be corrected whereas if I “miss” it often means I’ve gouged into the final shape. It’s also more fun “Joe’s way”. It’s kind of zen-like; so enjoyable to sit here and chip away at something while it takes form in front of your eyes.

In the meantime, while we’re sitting there carving, the whole village at one point or another during the day, passes by. Everyone stops to chat, have a look at what you’re working on, expresses an opinion and then moves on. What a great way to pass the day while getting to know everyone– so much better when it’s an informal setting.

My anecdote for the day is that at noon, the large village drum, the lali, gets beaten in a call to worship. It’s not as formal as the Muslim call to prayer, but the drum sounds four times/day and those who choose to stop a moment and say a prayer. For me it signifies mid-day and several minutes after the drum I heard Joe call Samu, the younger of his two sons, and give him some direction or another. A few minutes later Samu showed up with three coconuts. Joe expertly sliced them with his machete and we each had a long, cool drink of refreshing coconut water. Once finished, we gave the coconut back to Joe at which point he sliced it open so we could eat the meat and relieve our midday hunger. Once I was done with my coconut, I set it aside knowing the cycle was not yet done. Something would come along and finish the last bits. Sure enough a few minutes later a passel of baby chicks (five or six) came peeping across the wood chips in the carving area, crawled across my crossed legs, ankles and feet to my other side and proceeded to strip the final sustenance from the cut coconut.

Nothing goes to waste here.

Talk about the circle of life. We’re living it here.