A Memorable – and Life Changing – Fiji Vacation

Frank Headon traveled to Fiji in 2006 with several members of his family and participated in a whitewater rafting trip on the Upper Navua River with O.A.R.S.’ sister company, Rivers Fiji.  (Remember Survivor: Fiji?  Same river, same river outfitter!)  The trip, and especially the Fijian children, inspired Frank to start a book drive.  He, along with family and friends and other students, collected more than 1600 books for a Fijian school’s library.  Here is his story, in his words:

Mr. Wendt (George Wendt is the Founder and President of O.A.R.S.),
 
   In the late winter of early 2006, part of my family, my grandfather (Frank Headen), uncle (Greg Headen), father (Mark Headen), cousin (Chandler Headen), brother (James Headen), and I (Frank Headen), were invited to go on a trip with one of my granddad’s friends, Richard, and additional family friends.  My grandfather knows Richard through traveling with him around the world.  We all decided that it would be fun, and right before school ended in May, my granddad got it set up for us to go.  Before the trip, we read at least one book each about Fiji.  My brother and I were also watching Survivor: Fiji every Thursday night, being fans of reality shows that we are.  We were anticipating Independence Day for more than one reason; the unobvious reason was that we were getting on a plane and flying to Los Angeles, where we would catch our 13-hour flight to Nadi, (I didn’t know it until I landed in Fiji, but it is pronounced, “Nandi.”)
   After we landed, we went to our first hotel, which was only about 20 minutes away.  When we got there, we were treated with a Mojito and a damp, peppermint-scented cloth.  We checked in, put our luggage in our rooms, and went for an early lunch.  After that, we took a dip in the pool, and then decided we would take a quick nap and meet back up for dinner.  Well, it didn’t end up that way!  We slept from 2:00 in the afternoon until 8:00 the next morning!  Our taxis drove us back to the airport and we met up with the other people that would be in our group for the next ten days.
   As we drove across the beautiful Fijian landscape, we got our first sense of what the country was like.  We saw a lot of beautiful land and not very many houses – but there were many smiling children playing outside with rugby balls and just chasing each other around.  It was simply child’s play, and they looked so happy.  We ended up getting to our second hotel, where we would stay for the remainder of our time in Fiji, except for one night, the highlight of my trip.
   The day started out normally:  we got ready, ate breakfast, hopped on the bus and arrived at the Navua River.  As we were taking our six-our rafting trip, I found out that my raft guides had been on Survivor: Fiji!!  (I remembered the particular show that they were on very well.  It was down to the final three, and it was the last rewards challenge.  Jeff Probst, the series host, described the reward challenge as a rafting trip and a wonderful traditional lunch made by the guides on my rafting trip.  Each of the three guides that I talked to had a different show favorite.  It was between Earl, Cirie, and Yau-Man.)  It was pretty cool to relate to people that I had never met before, especially from half-way around the world.
   About two hours before we got to Nakavika, we stopped at a village called Wanindiro.  An elderly man was sick and needed to get to the hospital, many hours away from where we were located at that point.  He jumped on a raft, and caught a bus to Nadi, when we neared the village. It showed me how close knit the Fijians are with one another, and how every person there is a Good Samaritan inside and out, which is, sadly, not always the same in the US.
   When we got to the village of Nakavika, we set up our things in tents that were on a field by the school.  We had a quick meeting, and then went to see the wonderful meal that the people of Nakavika had made for us.  Every village person wanted to help, even if it meant that an eight-year-old boy had to pick up a piece of chicken on hot coals with his hands.  The meal was one of the most amazing I ever had!  The food was really delicious, and it was cool to know that it was made just for us, by our hospitable hosts.
   After dinner, we went to Chief Leo’s house/hut.  When we got there, we were told to sit in a circle, and be quiet for the moment.  My granddad, the oldest in our group and referred to as “Chief Frank” sat by Chief Leo.  I sat beside my granddad.  There were phrases said in Fijian by one of the men in the village, which were our right of passage to stay in the village, and our right as a real villager of Nakavika.  As a bowl of kava was going around, I saw my new friends’ faces turn greenish.  They looked like they were about to cry.  My cousin leaned over and whispered in my ear that it tasted like cough medicine and mud mixed together.  I told myself that if that was what I had to do to embrace the true Fijian culture, I would drink it.  Well, my cousin was right!  It did taste exactly how he said.  When the ceremony was over, we were told that it was okay for us to stay and visit with the villagers and Chief Leo.
   I was determined to stay and talk to Chief Leo, even if I had to wait for hours.  Fortunately, it didn’t pan out like that.  I only had to wait about five minutes for the bird watcher from Arizona, Helen, to finish talking to him.  It was finally my chance.  I was nervous and intimidated at first, because he was now the chief of my new village.  I ended up being fine and he was a pretty cool old man.  I talked to him about how he was offered a lot of money to leave the village, because it was blocking a copper company’s way of getting to their prime source, copper. Chief Leo said that it was a hard decision to make because he didn’t know if the money would benefit the villagers after Leo passed, as he said that he would anytime soon.  He said that his other choice was to stay and live happily in the Nakavika village, like he had done for over sixty years.  We also talked about God and Jesus, as we both are Christians.  I told him about my experiences of helping people on mission trips in West Virginia, Ohio, and Tennessee, as well as local missions in my close community and the whole metropolitan area of Charlotte.  He strengthened my relationship with God and the rest of the people in the world.  Just listening to him speak one humble sentence about helping his village, would have made me want to go see him again in Fiji.
   At the end of our conversation, we talked about school, and he said that villages around the area would send children from grades kindergarten to 8th grade every morning to go to school.  I met the principal, the Chief’s son, and we set up a tour of the school for the next morning after breakfast.  My dad and I went, but as we went into the first classroom and the little first graders sang us a song, everyone in our group came inside and listened and smiled.  We visited every classroom except the 8th grade.  After our tour, I went to the principal’s office and saw the school’s “library.”  It was made up of about 40 books, which were either tattered or just not good books to read to and relate to, like a good reader would like.
   When I got back home from Fiji, I couldn’t get the “library” image out of my head.  Even before I left for Fiji, I knew that I would end up having to give back to the Fijians because of what I was expecting to get out the experience from them.  I had the perfect idea – I would begin a book drive.  I told my mom and dad first, and they bought the idea.  I then told my advisory, which was headed by Ms. Babula a.k.a. “Profe”. They all agreed to help and that’s where it all started.
   We ended up sending 1657 books to Fiji.  I am so proud of everyone that helped me throughout the experience, and I should be the last person to be thanked.  It wouldn’t have happened without the help of my school and my family.  I set a goal of 250 books, and I got more than six times the amount.
 
Thank you so much,

Frank Headen

Written by Tracy

Writer, Photographer, former Waterblogged Editor