Back in the bar

Popo, at that moment was talking to Ms Rounds in her office.

‘Well, I’ve fired Jovelisi and we shouldn’t have to see his ugly face around here anymore,’ Ms Rounds said to her. ‘And really Popo, the next time you have any problems with the staff, just let me know immediately and I’ll take care of them. That is what you employ me for you know.’

‘Ah yes yes. Well, I tried to give that lazy boy a second chance. But I guess it was wasted. Anyway, I’m happy for the woman who dumped him online. She was very smart to see through him,’ Popo said.

‘I’ve never seen someone of your age work as hard as you do. Surely you should be retired and not working in a bar?’ Ms Rounds said in a mixture of admiration and disbelief. ‘You must be the only person I know who insists on working at seventy!’

‘Well some people don’t like not doing anything,’ Popo replied glibly. ‘Besides, its boring at home. I don’t want to sit down and watch tv all day or potter in the garden. I’m not meant for that!’

‘You nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw you trying to shift those boxes! Don’t ever do that again!’

Popo nodded. Then she smiled. ‘Oh well, it’s over now. I’m going to have my tea with the boy.’ She got up and left the office.

Ms Rounds watched her leave with a smile on her face. She’d never ever seen an old woman move as spritely as she did.

As Popo walked towards Jonathan, a muffled voice reached her ears.

‘You heard the boss. Don’t ever try and shift boxes again old woman! Or you’ll be responsible for murder if she gets a heart attack!’

‘Found your way under the floor boards did you?’ Popo muttered under her breath.

‘Well of course. What else would you expect of a rat? I wouldn’t be a very good one if I couldn’t get underground would I?’

‘And by the way, I hope you feel guilty about leaving me in the rain last night. I could have drowned out there!’

‘Well, if you truly are the rat you say you are, then you would have found a dry spot to sleep,’ Popo told him flatly. ‘Now, disappear.’

‘Hmph. As if you can see me!’ Rat replied indignantly. However, he remained quiet after that.

‘Hello Jonathan,’ Popo said when she reached him. ‘I hear you’ve no school today. Isn’t that nice?’

For the first time that day, Jonathan grinned. It was a toothy one.

‘Popo!’ he went. ‘Did you hear about Jovelisi as well? Your boss finally fired him!’

‘Hmmm. Yes, I heard he said some very bad things to you. I hope you didn’t take it to heart. He’s just a mindless gorilla who has no idea of what he’s saying,’ Popo said, giving him a concerned look.

‘Nah. I just ignored him. Mum said that I shouldn’t pay attention to people who say things like that,’ Jonathan told her.

‘Your mum’s right. It causes unnecessary aggravation and brings to light the birth of another idiot into this world,’ Popo said, giving a little cackle. ‘You are a very intelligent boy Jonathan. Your mum would be very proud to know that you did not react to stupid comments like those. Sometimes even the oldest and mature of us allow words to hurt us when they shouldn’t have to.’

‘Jovelisi’s a very bitter person isn’t he?’ Jonathan asked.

‘The lazy usually are Jonathan. They see the riches but not the sacrifices. Anyway, enough about that brainless oaf. How come your parents didn’t pick you up from school?’

Popo sat down and sipped her tea appreciatively. ‘Well?’ she asked when Jonathan didn’t reply immediately.

‘Well, my mum’s had an accident and will make her way down here soon. Dad’s stuck in a meeting,’ Jonathan answered.

‘I see. Well, I’m glad your mother is all right. Still, it might take a while before she gets here so perhaps if you like, I can tell you a chapter or two. What say?’ Popo said.

Jonathan nodded enthusiastically. ‘Great. I can’t wait to know more about the scarecrow. He’s so cool. He just blows Rat away!’

Popo nearly spat out her tea and instead, decided to choke.

‘Popo are you okay?’ Jonathan asked in a worried voice. He even got up and went to her side.

From somewhere in the background, a voice reached out.

‘Blows me? Blows me? Just what do you think I am you moron?’

Popo had another coughing fit and stamped the floor really hard. Jonathan was thoroughly concerned now and started hitting her on the back to unclog her pipes. After a few minutes, Popo calmed down and waved Jonathan aside.

‘I’m all right now. Thank you Jonathan.’

‘Geesh. I thought you were going to die there Popo. What happened?’

‘Tea went down the wrong pipe. Happens sometimes. Don’t worry, I can’t die like that,’ Popo answered.

From somewhere in the background, it could have even been the walls, a voice echoed out.

‘Really. Could have had me fooled there. I thought I’d have to crawl down your throat for a-’

Popo banged the wall really hard. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her.

‘Cockroach, cockroach that’s all. Nothing to worry about!’ Popo said, cackling cheerfully.

‘Now Jonathan,’ she said with slightly teary eyes. ‘Shall we get on with that story then?’

The Bus RIde

The bus ride into town was something to remember. There were quite a few students who were standing in the aisle, hanging onto seats and rail bars above their heads. The tarpaulin that served as windows were drawn down tightly and even though there was a transparent square for them to look out, Jonathan couldn’t see a thing. The rain was pelting down so hard that he couldn’t even see out the driver’s windscreen.

However, he didn’t think this lack of view would affect the bus driver. Most of the drivers in Fiji drove with their eyes closed anyway. The bus went over a big pot hole and all the children in the bus shouted as some skidded across wet floors, bumped into each other and even fell (deliberately) onto others they liked and disliked.

‘Oilei! Driver – you trying to break our bums or what?’ a student called out. ‘Oi, can you hear us or not?’

‘It’s no use Peli,’ someone else answered. ‘He’s not listening to us. Can’t you see the old socks in his ears?’

‘I knew there was something funny about his looks today,’ the first student called Peli replied. ‘And look, he’s even got his raincoat on. Oilei, there’s even goggles around his head. Is he planning to take us for a swim or what?’

‘Maybe he plans to drown us in one of these potholes,’ another student shouted. ‘Oi driver watch where you driving man! That last pothole was the size of the Olympic pool man!’

‘Man this is great. No school today and most likely all week!’ Another student called out.

‘Great for you maybe but not for me,’ someone else said in response. The voice was a little glum.

‘Oso.. what you complaining for Wais? Oh yeah I forgot – you have to shave your auntie’s beard when you get home right?’

The whole bus burst into laughter.

‘You are one to laugh. I seen your mother you know. Her moustache was bigger than your father’s!’ The boy called Wais rebutted. There was a fresh uproar of laughter.

‘Ok ok. Let’s not talk about our mothers and aunties anymore!’ The perpetrator said loudly. ‘We wanna sleep tonight and don’t wanna dream of plucking their beards out.’

Murmurs of agreement spread throughout the bus. At some point or the other, each of them had to endure a loving female relative’s embrace and suffer the harsh scrape of their facial attributes. It wasn’t pleasant.

The bus hit another pothole and the students lurched to one side and then the other. Jonathan grimaced as three students squashed him against the window before releasing him. He regretted having chosen the seat right next to the window then – it meant that he was the furthest in and didn’t have the safety of the aisle to escape to. But then again, he didn’t have to endure sweating arm pits from those students who were standing. Anyway, his stop was coming up soon so he didn’t have to endure it for long.

At last the bus pulled to a stop and Jonathan disembarked with a grateful sigh. He shielded his face against the rain as much as he could with his bag and ran towards the bar. It loomed in front of him, its doors promising him dry warmth and hopefully, a story from Popo. He pushed the door open and entered.

‘Oi boy! Who said you can come in here? Get out or I’ll call the police for skipping school!’

Jonathan recognised the voice. He’d heard it before being used on Popo although it had no effect on her. Jovelisi. The big, dumb and lazy man who thought he was a security guard but really, was no more than a door man who never opened doors. Instead, he spent his time on the internet trying to find himself a wife. Jonathan faced him.

‘School’s been cancelled because of the flood,’ he said. ‘I’m supposed to wait here for my mother.’

However, for no reason as usual, Jovelisi was in a nasty mood.

‘Oh we have a smart mouth here. Some white boy who thinks he can tell me what to do eh? Well, get lost! This place is for paying customers only so tell your mother to find you another nursery.’

‘You can tell her yourself,’ Jonathan said calmly. ‘I’m not going to disobey her and I shall wait here until she arrives.’

‘What did you say?’ Jovelisi suddenly shouted, his face pulling into the ugliest frown. Jonathan could even see his nostril hairs. ‘You get out of here now or I shall throw you out you white, cheeky smart mouth! I’ve seen you talking to that old china woman. You and her, both lazy good for nothings while people like me have to work hard and - ’

‘And what Jovelisi?’ a cold, hard voice asked from behind him.

Jovelisi’s face visibly changed. It went from fierce to kicked dog and he straightened up, almost humbly to face the newcomer. His boss.

She was a tall, mixed woman of Fijian, European descent and right then, she looked furious.

‘What were you saying to the boy Jovelisi?’ she asked coldly.

‘I was um..telling him to leave Ms.Rounds,’ Jovelisi replied. ‘He’s trying to cause trouble. He’s supposed to be at school.’

‘Oh? And what were you saying about the china woman who right now is shifting boxes in the back that you were supposed to be doing?’

Jovelisi visibly paled.

Ms. Rounds continued speaking. ‘I thought I heard you call her a good for nothing lazy woman isn’t that right? And because she’s just so lazy, you made her, a seventy year old woman, move heavy boxes so that you can look for women on the internet? And then, you saw it fit to throw out a young boy in the rain when he’s supposed to wait for his mother? I think I’ve heard enough Jovelisi. Please collect your pay from my office and don’t come back here again. Ever! Or I’ll have you thrown out.’

Jovelisi’s face transformed once more into an ugly person.

‘You can’t do this to me! You have no right to kick me out and keep that old china - ’ a hand came across his face, leaving a red mark. Jovelisi growled and leapt forward but was stopped abruptly by a large, dark Fijian man that appeared out of nowhere. He twisted Jovelisi’s arm behind him and before he could scream out in pain, the dark man bundled him forward and outside.

Jonathan and the woman watched as the dark man said some things in Jovelisi’s ear and then witnessed the bully fall to the ground, pleading. The dark man pointed a finger indicating that Jovelisi leave and the bully did so with relief. Within seconds, he had disappeared around the corner. The dark man walked back into the bar.

‘I don’t think we’ll see him ever again,’ he told them.

‘Good!’ Ms Rounds replied. She looked down at Jonathan.

‘Are you ok?’ she asked.

Jonathan nodded. Ms Rounds smiled at him. ‘He was such a nasty person I know. But unfortunately very clever. I couldn’t fire him without a good reason and you provided it to us. Do you want a hot chocolate while you wait for your mother? It’ll be my treat.’

Jonathan nodded and smiled his thanks. Ms Rounds headed to the bar to order his drink and so he made his way to the corner table by the window. It was cosy there and he’d be able to see his mother when she arrived. The waitress brought his hot chocolate over and placed another cup of tea on the table.

‘Um excuse me but I didn’t order the cup of tea,’ Jonathan told her.

‘Oh don’t worry,’ the waitress replied. ‘It’s for Popo. You’ll be having tea with her!’ She threw him a friendly smile before walking off.

Jonathan looked about for Popo. She was nowhere to be seen. Strange, he thought. How did she know he was there?

A Palm Drive

I meant to publish this one earlier but never got around to it till today. Yes, it's one of those incidents that deserves a mention occasionally. About three weeks ago as I was on my way to work, I came across a large crowd standing outside the internet shop that I usually pass. Sad to say, my curiosity was at once alerted, especially when I spotted a very large, leafy palm tree in the background.

As I approached nearer, I was quite surprised to see that the palm was actually lying across a car and that it looked vaguely familiar. This was because, the place where I work has a lush garden of tropical beauties.....8 floors up!! I then met a friend of mine who was observing the incident and he told me that the palm had fallen from the 8th story of my office. I was quite shocked of course. If the palm had indeed fallen from my office, this would mean serious implications (like getting our behinds sued!) so I quickly rushed to my office to determine if this was true. It wasn't thankfully!

There used to be a palm tree that grew outside on the ground floor of my office building. It was that poor palm that got careened into and now decorated the white car. And when I did think about it, I realised that my office grew no large plants therefore it could not have fallen off 8 stories. As for the driver, he was rumoured to have suffered a heart attack thus crashing into the tree before bravely driving his car to a quieter street out of harm's way. That was indeed a clever, brave thing to do.

However, he looked more shocked to me than heart stricken, as if the tree had come to life and attacked him rather than his heart. The poor man was staring at his car, more than likely thinking about his insurance or lack of. My heart went out to him.

Anyways, have a look at this new floral car. :)

Heavy Rain

‘Dan? Dan, come and take a look at the weather. Do you think it’s wise to send Jonathan to school today?’ Katie called out to her husband.

Jonathan’s father walked over to the window where his wife was looking out worriedly.

‘It’s typical Suva weather darling. It rains all the time like this here. We are not in Europe anymore. We get real rain here and not miserable drizzles,’ Dan told his wife.

‘But have you seen the weather reports? It’s unnaturally cold outside!’ Katie exclaimed. ‘The weather reports say that it’s never happened before.’

‘Yes and they are talking about the temperature dear – not the rain,’ Dan said. ‘The rain is nothing unusual in Suva. As for the wind, Jonathan’s going to be indoors all day isn’t that right son?’

‘Yes dad,’ Jonathan replied. He had his back pack on. ‘Are we going now?’

His father downed his tea in one gulp, got up and kissed his wife on the cheek before making his way to Jonathan. ‘Have you kissed your mum goodbye?’ he asked.

‘Way before you dad,’ Jonathan replied.

‘Well all right. See you later mum! We’re off!’

As they drove along the sea wall to Suva Grammar School, Jonathan gazed at the sea. It was angry and black and lashed at the walls that kept it from coming further inland. On their right, the vast school grounds were already flooding. A question popped up in his mind.

‘Dad, what happens if we get a flood warning? Will you be able to pick me up?’ he asked.

‘I should think so if nothing else comes up. Otherwise, call your mum. You have your mobile on you don’t you?’

‘Yeah. Otherwise, do I catch the school bus into town as usual?’ Jonathan said.

‘Yes. Those big buses are fairly safe. Just use your head, get to a safe place and give your mum or me a call okay?’

‘Okay dad.’ The car pulled into the school driveway. Jonathan bid his father goodbye and got out of the car. It was still raining hard and he ran in, all the way to his classroom.

Classes proceeded as normal for the first half of the day but it was hard to hear what the teachers were saying because the rain was so loud outside that it drowned out their voices.

Just before the lunch bell, their class teacher, Miss Satala interrupted their maths class looking slightly flustered.

‘Kids,’ she said. ‘The headmaster has decided to cancel classes for the rest of the day and instead, you are to make your way back home. Most of your parents are being called as we speak and the school buses will be here shortly. So for those of you who live far away, you should get on those buses immediately. There are parents driving into the school yard now and for the students who normally get picked up, please wait in the lobby by the entrance. That’s it – pack your things and get ready to leave.’

Some kids yelled with glee. However, Jonathan did not join them. Miss Satala called him over.

‘Jonathan,’ she said as he approached her. ‘I’ve tried to call your father but the officials say he’s in a very important meeting and can’t be disturbed. Can you try calling your mum instead? We don’t have her number.’

Jonathan nodded. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled his mother’s number.

‘Hello, Jonathan is that you?’ her voice came over the receiver.

‘Yes mum. Mum, classes have been cancelled today and students are going home. Can you pick me up? Dad’s in a meeting and can’t come.’

‘Jonathan, listen carefully. I had a little accident driving to the supermarket and I won’t be able to drive down. I need to go down to the police station to give my statement as well. Can you catch the school bus into town and I shall see if I can catch a cab as soon as I can? Otherwise, mummy shall send a diplomatic car for you okay?’

‘All right mum. I’ll get on the school bus. Is it okay if I wait for you at the corner of Gordon street where the bar is mum? Do you know where it is?’

‘Is that where you said the little Chinese woman was?’ His mum asked.

‘Yes mum. I’ll wait for you there.’

‘I’ll try to be there as soon as possible sweetheart. If I can’t make it, I’ll call your father all right? Love you dear.’

Jonathan put his phone away, packed his bag and headed out to wait for the school bus. He was glad that he was going to see Popo.

Popo and Rat

Popo stepped out of the bar onto the pavement, bag under arm. There was a strong wind blowing and she looked up in surprise. There was a biting edge to it, uncommon in Fiji. Mango and palm trees were swaying their leafy heads violently and overhead, dark clouds were gathering at phenomenal speed.

‘Can you zip the bag please? It’s getting breezy in here!’ a muffled voice called out from her handbag. Popo ignored the voice and began walking. The bar where she worked was situated at the bottom of a hill and she was making her way up. She sighed. So much for being a tough old woman, her bones and muscles were begging for retirement.

Her sigh did not go unnoticed. ‘I’m surprised you continue to push yourself like this. You know your body can’t take it anymore. Why can’t you just be a normal old woman and catch the bus? Or get one of those golf cart thingies?’

‘I don’t like waiting that’s why!’ Popo grumbled. ‘And I don’t like being squashed next to sweaty, smelly people on their way home from work. And my body is not done in yet – while it can walk, it will walk!’

‘Yeah right. You’re just to embarrassed to admit that you can’t drive one of them golf cart thingies. I know you took one of them for a test drive without telling me and you must have crashed it because why else would you not get one for yourself?’

‘And by the way, do you know how painful it is for the normal, young people in this world to see you struggle up this hill? You sure know how to make everyone around you feel guilty!’

‘Well if the young people of today chose to ride in buses or cabs when their houses are not more than a fifteen minute walk away, then that’s their decision to die younger. I am going to walk!’ Popo said determinedly.

The wind howled and Popo shivered. She was not the only one. Rat shivered in the bag.

‘Where are we? The north pole or what?’ he called out.

‘I don’t know but at least it keeps me from sweating,’ Popo answered. ‘Now if you can just shut up for ten minutes, I’ll be able to get us home.’

Rat obliged and it was a quiet walk home. Popo finally unlocked the door to her humble wooden house along Knolly street and closed it behind her. She placed her handbag on the kitchen counter and Rat scampered out of it. He ran straight to the tv remote control and hopped onto it. The television came on.

‘Hey old woman! We just in time for the weather news,’ he called out.

‘And today Fiji experienced the most unusual weather conditions with temperatures dropping down to as low as 15 degrees where just an hour ago, the Nadi weather station recorded 35 degrees in the west. This unusual occurrence coincides with rising sea levels in some of the low lying areas around the coast…’

‘Is this a coincidence I wonder?’ Popo asked aloud. ‘Could it be that the key is here?’

‘What? The rising sea levels?’ Rat asked. ‘It’s called global warming old lady. Very common today as the big industrial worlds pollute the air and oceans with their progress. Nothing supernatural about that.’

‘We’ve searched all over Rat. There’s not many countries left in this world,’ Popo said.

‘Tell me about it. The lines on your face is a painful reminder!’

He dodged a flying saucer followed by an old slipper, a loaf of bread, a hand of bananas and then……

‘No! Not my cheesecake!’ Rat screamed in horror as Popo whipped out his beloved dessert and flung it at him. Instinctively, Rat dodged and it went splat on the wall.

‘I’ll trust you to clean every single bit of it, every crumb in oh…say five minutes or else you are sleeping outside tonight!’ Popo said coldy. She left the room.

‘Geesh – she has no sense of humour at all,’ Rat grumbled after she left. He surveyed the creamed cheese on the wall. ‘Oh well, better get to work.’

He opened his mouth as wide as he could, ambled to the wall and tried to scrape the cheese off with his teeth. It didn’t work.

‘Hmmm perhaps if I use my tail…..’

That night, Rat slept outside.

Something so small.....

The Miracle Ant

I usually try not to make this blog an account of my personal experiences, opting to stick to the stories I write as originally intended. However, there are times when things happen to you, that touch you in some way that you just have to tell whoever you can about it. This was the case with me 3 nights ago.

I was preparing dinner and had pulled out the pak choi (cabbage) that had been in the fridge for several days. Upon slicing it up, I discovered a dead colony of ants on my chopping board, having most obviously, died from the cold temperature in the fridge. It’s not uncommon in Fiji, to find ants everywhere and these ones had decided to take a tour around pak choi city. Unfortunately for them, pak choi city was harvested and duly ended up in my fridge where after several days in a much colder climate, they were struck down by hypothermia and died.

Except for one plucky, lucky little bugger! As I was about to place my chopping board under the tap, I spotted movement and then there he was. The miracle ant that had survived extreme conditions, watched his fellowmen die and yet refusing to pass on. What a brave little bugger.

I was so moved by the ant’s determination to live, trying futilely to drag itself off the wet chopping board that I intervened with mother nature and saved it. I slid it onto my finger nail, rested the little fella onto a dry tea towel and delivered crumbs of sweet bread to it. Then I waited to see another miracle unfold.

Within seconds, the ant recovered tremendously! At first, it was a little wobbly on its feet but the smell of sugar and warm air must have injected a new life force into it. It went from wobbly to stodgy, from unaware to exploratory and then, it found its feet. The strength in it was just so amazing that you’d never have believed that it had been stuck on a cabbage leaf in the fridge for 3 days, surviving while all its mates died. Just so amazing.

I then transferred it to the pot plant outside which regularly gets fed with potato peels, pawpaw skin and other yummy food. I sincerely hope that the miracle ant found its haven there because really, he was the pluckiest little bugger of all.

Popo in the bar

As Popo walked towards the bar, she glanced about quickly to see if there were any customers close by but luckily, most of them were sitting in the far corner. There was no one currently sitting at the bar. It would have been bad for business otherwise.

‘How are we going to catch it?’ the waitress asked her nervously.

‘You leave this to me,’ Popo told her briskly. ‘Why don’t you go and wipe the tables and by the time you get back, I should have taken care of our unexpected friend.’

The waitress nodded in relief and took her tray, walking towards the few customers.

As Popo entered the bar, she heard the odd tinkling of glass as if someone was rubbing them up against each other. Squatting down in front of the glass racks, she stared as far back as she could, hoping to spot the unwelcome rodent. She saw it.

It was looking at her beadily, its nose twitching. It appeared bold, completely unaffected by Popo’s presence. It started to run along the back of the rack, its body squeezing between the glasses and the backing, causing the glasses to rub against each other.

Popo grabbed a large paper bag.

‘Now you just come here and stop causing trouble!’ she said, opening the bag, facing its mouth towards the rat. The rat ignored her and continued trotting.

‘Don’t you be stubborn now. At least it’s me here and not that big dumb Jovelisi. He’d just step on you where as I’d throw you outside!’

‘I’ll take my chances thank you!’ a voice said.

‘Oh you would now? And do you know that if your presence is spotted by a customer, health and inspection officers would come here and close this place down? You come here now!’ Popo hissed.

‘Will not. You said you’d show me this place and yet you prefer to tell that violent kid stories! How dare he think that I’d be eaten by that big dumb scarecrow? I thought it’d have been obvious by now that I was the brains behind everything!’

‘Well, he had a point. Your name wasn’t in the title,’ Popo replied calmly.

‘Well it should be! The next time you relate that story, I want you to call it The Stupendous Rat and his Stuffed Dolls!’

‘If you don’t come here now, you are going to be the squashed rat in this paper bag!’ Popo growled. ‘Now get in here before the waitress comes back!’

‘All right I will but before I do, make sure you put the leftovers in first. That waitress left bits of cheesecake by the dishwasher!’

Popo glanced quickly at the dishwasher and saw the sweet desserts that the rat had eyed. Getting up quickly, she hobbled to the dishwasher, chucked in the treats and shot back to the rat.

‘Now get in,’ she said, opening the bag. Rat practically shot in. Popo crumpled the top of the bag quickly, walked over to her handbag and threw the paper bag in.

‘Easy now,’ came a muffled voice. ‘You’re mashing up the cheesecake!’

Popo removed her apron and hung it up behind the door of the bar. Carrying her bag with her, she headed into the staff room where she commenced to wash her hands. Then once she had dried them she walked out. She met the waitress on the way.

‘Oh Popo, did you manage to kill the rat?’ she asked.

‘Yes I did and I threw it out in the skip outside,’ Popo replied. ‘I’m off home now but it’d be better if you gave those glasses a wash. You never know what diseases that pest was carrying!’

From somewhere in her bag, she felt teeth trying to gnaw their way through. ‘Well I have to go now or else I’ll miss my bus!’ she said brightly. ‘See you tomorrow eh?’

‘Ok Popo. Moce. Thank you for killing the rat.’

Popo nodded and quickly made haste for the door. For an old woman, she could certainly walk fast.

Back to Popo and Jonathan......

‘You are not going to stop there are you?’ Jonathan said in disbelief. ‘Nothing happened!’

‘What? Then what I tell you story for if you not listening?’ Popo said briskly.

‘I was listening. But what I meant is that you can’t just end a chapter on berries and nuts can you? It’s not right!’ Jonathan protested.

‘Why not? The doll and rat are hungry and the mouse has got berries and nuts. They’ve escaped the nasty scarecrow and finally they are going to get some rest. As so should you young man!’ Popo went.

‘Oh ok,’ Jonathan grumbled. ‘But I bet that scarecrow will find a way into the hole and catch Rat and Marianne. I bet he’s even gonna eat Rat!’

‘Well you’ll just have to wait and find out,’ Popo told him. ‘And anyway, what makes you think the scarecrow will eat Rat?’ she asked, squinting at him.

‘Well, it’s just the way the title is called. You said it was called The Doll, the Witch and the Scarecrow. Rat’s not mentioned in it,’ Jonathan answered.

Somewhere from the bar, a glass fell, crashing to the floor in a myriad of fragments. Someone yelled.

‘Hmmm very true. He got left out didn’t he?’ Popo said thoughtfully.

‘So did he get eaten by the scarecrow?’ Jonathan asked eagerly, hoping to get Popo to continue with the story.

‘You’ll just have to come back another day and find out won’t you?’ Popo said mischievously, grinning at the same time.

Jonathan caught her look and pulled a face.

‘You are just being mean now,’ he told her. ‘What’s another chapter? I still have time to go home.’

‘Absolutely not. You must go home now or your parents will wonder where you are. Besides, it’s not safe to wander about in the late afternoon with so many aimless teenagers about. You won’t be the first little boy they’ve stolen from or bullied,’ Popo said.

‘All right then,’ Jonathan said reluctantly, giving in. ‘Will you be here tomorrow Popo?’

Popo nodded. ‘I’ll be here. I’m always here,’ she said.

So Jonathan slung on his bag, said goodbye to Popo and left the bar. Popo watched him leave and sighed before deciding to see what the commotion in the bar was about. As she headed towards the bar, a young waitress came running up to her.

‘Popo!’ she said, nearly frantic. ‘There’s a rat in the bar and its knocking all the glasses from the bottom shelf. Customers haven’t seen it yet but at this rate, they are going to!’

‘Oh dear,’Popo went. ‘Something must have upset the rat which is why it’s coming out in broad daylight,’ she said. ‘Let’s go take a look shall we?’

Jonathan's Last Chapter of the Day

'So Rat saved Marianne's life?' Jonathan went. 'Wow, who'd have thought that a rat could be so brave?'

'Sometimes Jonathan, the very colour of our skins and the bones in our faces lays out a certain path for all of us, that calls on other people to judge us, whether it be good or bad. But every once in a while, our nature will cause us to rise and rebel against such superficial things. Rat is a rat yes, and by the very thing that he is, people look down on him. While he can't help what he is, as you can see, he has utilized his natural running instinct to include Marianne. Twice he has saved her life. People are so hasty to judge,' Popo said.

'So Popo, is it okay to let them into our houses?' Jonathan asked.

'Don't be stupid! They'll eat all your food, leave droppings for you to skid on and spread all sorts of diseases depending on where they've been. But what I'm saying, is just because they appear to have filthy nature, it doesn't mean that beneath all that muck you won't find a diamond.'

'Oh ok,' Jonathan said thoughtfully. Then, perking up, he asked, 'So what happens in the story next Popo?'

'Hmmm....shouldn't you be going home now? It's getting late,' Popo asked him.

'I don't live far from here - it'll only take me 5 minutes to get home,' Jonathan told her. 'Just one more chapter please Popo?'

'Ok then. One more chapter and then you have to go home to your parents,' Popo relented.

'Done!' Jonathan went.

Author's Note

I just thought I should give readers a few directions to getting to the stories in this blog. Firstly, it's not hard at all so if you don't see a chapter straight away, don't blow a gasket. Just navigate to the labels "Popo and Jonathan" or "DWS Chapters".

Now for a bit of background. Popo is the old woman who works in a bar and tells stories to Jonathan. There is an ongoing conversation between the both of them and she shares certain memories and ideals with him. In between this, Popo tells him stories. The first one she begins with is about "The Doll, the Witch and the Scarecrow" otherwise labelled "DWS Chapters".

I would suggest following Popo and Jonathan because it'd lead you in the right order of things. Also, "Popo and Jonathan" is a story in itself and their story is linked with the ones being told by Popo. Ah well, I better not give too much away. There's no prerequisite to read about them and you can skip straight to the chapters if you like.

Anyway, that's about it. Hope you guys enjoy the story as it progresses.

Quote of the Day

“Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.”

-Will Rogers (1879-1935), humorist, performer

A Sad Day by the Sea Wall

Another sad observation of mine:

My partner and I went for a walk along the sea wall this evening and were saddened to see how much more polluted the water had become. By saying polluted, I don't mean the normal rubbish that you see get washed up by the waves or thrown by really stupid monkey asses (go figure) but the great clouds of mud that whirled through the water. It's already hard enough to witness the ocean fighting back to clean our shores and polish the rocks so that we could have something to truly appreciate, only to have all its efforts wasted when major construction hits the area and the sea becomes a convenient waste dump once again.

Why is it so hard for people to understand that "Environmental Pollution -> no fish -> $50 per fish-> bad fish-> bad stomach-> sore ass-> doctor's bills-> broke ass"??? Not to mention that people love going to the sea wall for walks, jogs, hangouts or even picnics. Why, as a poor nation, we continue to destroy the land that feeds us? We truly are the most dumb ass people around. Sigh........

Author's Note -2

It's been 2 days since I've last updated the story on 'The Doll, the Witch and the Scarecrow' otherwise DWS. But hopefully that should be underway soon. However, Popo and Jonathan have continued with their own conversation in the Story Bar so by all means, have a read and find out a little more about strange Popo.

I have however, put a few pretty pictures in to make it easier on the eyes and to create a nice story telling atmosphere. It's not Picasso but it'll suffice.

Enjoy!

Popo And Jonathan -4

(…continued)
‘And do you know what the dolls looked like?’ Popo asked, interrupting the story.
‘No,’ Jonathan replied.

‘Well, they were those kind of porcelain dolls with painted china faces, big eyes and soft bodies,’ Popo described. ‘You know, those lifelike ones you see in the movies? Like Chucky?’

‘I don’t know Chucky but I know what you mean,’ Jonathan said.

‘Yes, like this! Bwah ha ha!’ Popo brandished an ugly looking doll quite suddenly, its face cracked and grinning awkwardly.

Jonathan jumped in fright. He scowled.

‘Ha! Got you! You got scared by this little doll!’ Popo cackled.

‘No I didn’t!’ Jonathan defended himself.

‘Yes you did!’

‘No I didn’t!’

‘Yes you did!’

‘No I didn’t! You just surprised me that’s all,’ Jonathan said. He was slightly cross now. He had been scared when Popo had whipped out the doll. Where had she been hiding it though? It hadn’t been with her when she began telling the story. He eyed her suspiciously.

Popo was looking quite pleased with herself. She was stroking the doll gently, giggling to herself. Jonathan sighed. He couldn’t help it. Most people would have thought her a senile old woman playing with ugly dolls, but as he watched her, he couldn’t help but smile. She looked like she was recalling some pleasant memory from her past.

‘Anyway, where did you get that from?’ he asked.

‘Who? Gerta?’ she said, referring to the doll. ‘She was a gift from a friend when I was in Germany.’

‘You were in Germany?’ Jonathan asked in surprise.

‘Yes, in 1945. I was a little girl at the time. Things were different then. So noisy with all those bombs dropping all the time.’

‘Huh? You mean that you were in World War 2?’ Jonathan asked in amazement. ‘You actually saw bombs falling from the sky?’

‘Yes yes. I lived there for a while.’

‘Wow! You must be really old!’

Now it was Popo’s turn to scowl. ‘Years are nothing if you haven’t lived my boy. And I have lived. Oh yes, I have lived a very long time. I don’t know if I’m ever going to stop!’

‘Who was your friend Popo?’

Popo smiled then. Her fingers caressed the doll’s hair.

‘Her name was Adamina,’ she said. ‘She was only 6 years old at the time.’ Her face turned sad then. ‘Her parents were killed in the war and for six days and nights, she hid in a barrel with this doll. It was then that I found her and we stayed together until we managed to leave the country. It was this doll that saved her life.’

Jonathan looked at the doll again. It really didn’t look very nice. It was old and faded, its face had a tiny hole in it and its clothes were tatty and dirty. It looked like it had been through a lot.

‘How did the doll save her life?’ he asked.

Popo sighed. ‘It was very painful for her. But,’ she looked at him suddenly, ‘-that’s between me and her. And she’s left this world already so there’s just me and Gerta now. Perhaps one day Jonathan, I will tell you.’

‘Anyway, back to the story. Don’t you want to know what happened to Marianne?’

‘Uh huh. But Popo, are you sure this story is for kids?’ Jonathan asked.

‘Why? You scared of dolls?’

‘Well no but -’

‘Then why you ask?’

‘Well, it doesn’t seem like one of those happy fairy tales that’s all.’

‘Hmph. Coming from you who wanted to hear about monsters and dragons! Oh well, it’s true that this story has made adults scream in fright -’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I went easy on you on the bit where the witch clobbered her mother in the back of the shop!’

‘Oh,’ Jonathan said.

‘Yeah, especially when the lights went out and-’

‘Ok Po, you can tell me the next bit of the story,’ Jonathan said hurriedly.

‘Well…ok then. The next part. So Marianne’s a doll and-’

‘What? You didn’t tell me she turned into a doll!’

‘Oh I didn’t? Couldn’t you have guessed anyway? Ok ok, I will go back to that bit then….’

(……to be continued)

Author's Note

Just thought I should let you know that I have begun the first chapter of Popo's story to Jonathan and it's labelled 'The Doll, Witch and Scarecrow.' I've also done a short scathing account on the bus passengers of Fiji due to my recent drive along the coastal roads. Kids, don't read this bit. That's it. Keep checking this site for updates on Popo's story.

Bus Passengers

Most drivers in Fiji have always had a problem with bus drivers - next to taxi drivers, they are the worst in the world. They don't bother indicating when pulling in and out of lanes, they have no road courtesy at all barging and bullying their way back into traffic.

However, there is another disturbing factor to buses and the hazards they present - surprisingly in the form of its passengers. While driving along the coastal roads over the long weekend, we were twice nearly involved in accidents. We were stuck following a bus along the winding roads when a bottle came flying at us. My partner managed to swerve in time and it landed on the road where it shattered. Some idiot deserving of a place in the Genius Book of Records with the brain size of dog stool had thrown it out the bus with no regards whatsoever to the cars that were following.

My partner hit the car horn angrily while letting out a colourful string of words when another bottle came flying out! This time it was a Fiji Water bottle and it hit the car bonnet. Luckily it was plastic because I feared that my other half would have cut the bus off, boarded it and pommelled the perpetrator/s until he/she resembled the thrown bottles. Whew!

When the passengers heard the honking, all they did was look out through the rear window, stare at us and then went back to doing exactly what they were not supposed to do. These idiots didn't even realise why they were being honked at!!! We watched shocked as piles and piles of orange peel along with foil bags, water and more rubbish came flying out.

Why is it that we, the people of Fiji, have such a beautiful island country yet show no respect or appreciation for it? Why is it that we are so stupid? You don't need a high school education to understand the dangers of throwing things out of moving vehicles and with a majority of us coming out of villages and farms, we should know that littering is bad. Yet, we don't care. Many of us don't even bother to use our brains. We'd rather be thought of as stupid and monkey like.

Unfortunately for most of us, we are thought of as exactly that. I feel sorry for bus drivers at times knowing how they have a schedule to keep and if they are not on time, their wages get docked. They get paid very little to begin with and so there is some pressure on them which explains some of their bad driving. But now, bus companies should be made to place rules and fines on their buses as well as bins for their passengers. In this way, they make more money if their passengers do get litter happy and everyone can drive on safer, cleaner roads.

The First Story (continued...)

Jonathan couldn't tell if Popo was serious or not.
'Have you heard the story of Rapunzel?' Popo asked.
'Heaps,' Jonathan said flatly. 'My little sister never tires of hearing it!'
'How about Snow White then?'
'No Popo. Those are all girly stories!'
'Little Red Riding Hood?'
'Popo!' Jonathan bemoaned. 'Please, something not Hans Anderson? How about stories of dragons, knights or monsters instead?'
'Tssk. Such active imagination. So violent too. You need to calm down and learn to accept new stories, whether you like it or not!' Popo admonished.
'But Popo, I've heard them all. I'd like to listen to something new!'
'I have just the story for you then. Guaranteed you've not heard it before!'
'Cool! What's it about?'
'It's about a doll.'
Jonathan groaned. 'A doll? This is going to be dull.'
'Nonsense! It's a very exciting story. It's got scarecrows, princes, evil witches and talking animals in it. Cool stuff!'
Jonathan perked up at 'scarecrows' and 'princes'. It sounded promising.
'But it's a very long story,' Popo warned. 'I won't be able to finish it today or tomorrow or the next day. This story takes time. Plus I'm an old woman who cannot speak so fast.'
Jonathan cocked an eye at her. He wanted to disagree over her last statement. He had seen her talk to another old chinese man the other day and she had spoken like a machine gun. It had been very scary, with the two elderly people yelling away as if the other was deaf.
'Ok then. Sit down. You got a drink? This is gonna be a long story.'
Jonathan heeded her advice, ran to the bar where he bought himself a soda and on afterthought, a cup of tea for Popo - incase she got thirsty and stopped telling the story.
'Why thank you,' Popo said as he gave her the tea. 'You're a very good boy. Now sit down and I will begin.'
Jonathan opted for the padded footstool next to Popo's chair.
'Hmmmm let me see. What was her name? Miso? Misa? Something Mi....Mari? Oh that's right! Marianne! Her name was Marianne!'
'Who was Marianne?' Jonathan asked.
'Why, the little girl of course,' came the reply.
Jonathan groaned inwardly. 'Popo, I thought you said this was an exciting story. What is Marianne doing in it?'
'You'll see Jonathan. You'll see. Ok, I will begin. The story of the doll, the scarecrow and the witch.'

Memories of the Irish

This evening after a pleasant dinner with some friends, I happened to watch an old Irish comedy. The viewing brought back fond memories of my time spent in Ireland and my exposure to the people. This won't be a majorly long memoir - just something that I want people to know. The Irish are simply one of the greatest people in the world.
They are such open, friendly and talkative people and if you are impartial, the biggest cussers in the world. However, when in Ireland, you don't have a choice of being impartial - you become one of them. That's just the great thing about Ireland and her people - they take you in with open arms and bathe you in a symphony of cussing, or for the more sensitive ears, a factory of heavy, industrial ear and religious abuse. :)
They are a lively, passionate people, full of life and vigour and it would be a nearly impossible mission to find one person that won't make you smile. As I promised, this won't be a long blog, and so that's it. I really do love the Irish. God bless them. :)

Book Review - A Hat Full of Sky

By Terry Pratchett

Oh how I miss my books! The food to my soul, the chocolate to my brains, the tv of my eyes...... Trust me, that's how you'll feel if you are an avid book reader who comes to Fiji. Unfortunately, we sadly lack in that intellectual department, not because we don't have the resources or can't afford it, but because it is not impressed upon our children here. Society here doesn't regard it as a very rewarding activity in general. While there are those of us who do appreciate books, some of us who cannot afford them, most of the population in GENERAL, do not appreciate them.

Anyway, on with my latest review - one of the few books of Terry Pratchett that I have not yet read.

A Hat Full of Sky is about a young budding witch called Tiffany Aching who once defeated the Fairy Queen with nothing but a frying pan and earned the respect of the most powerful witch in all Disc World - GrannyWeatherwax. In this book, her guardians, the little outcasts of fairy world, the Nac MacFeegles, discover that an ancient form of life, one that lives in powerful hosts, is now after Tiffany. It wishes to possess her and follows her to her new place of abode and to a new teacher, a witch called Ms Levy. Except that Ms Levy is divided into two, literally.

While training under Ms Levy, Tiffany fails to disclose her secret ability and this is what leads to her being finally posssed by the Hiver, the ancient life form. It is a story filled with inventive antics of the miscievous, trouble making Nac MacFeegles who are under a geas to protect her and the intervention of the greatest witch of all times, Granny Weatherwax herself!

Under Granny Weatherwax's guidance and Tiffany's grandmother's love, she discovers the powers within herself to overcome the thing that is hunting her. She also makes new friends and enemies, the beginning of what seems to be another Granny, Nanny Org and Margaret circle. Not as much laughs and witty humour as in some of his other books, but definitely entertaining and captivating. Another Terry Pratchett hit! :)

My Rating....... 3.5 out of 5

The Diary of Curses, Wishes and Thoughts

There are times when I wish that someone I truly dislike (not the trivial 'he/she's a snob', 'that person is so lazy', 'that friend backstabbed me and took my job, house and partner'), truly can't stand even thinking the first letter of their name, would just get run over by a bus several times. I'd even hope that the bus driver would reverse over the disliked person in an effort to make sure that he did run over that person and that it was an accident, or perhaps he was imagining things but sadly enough, he did not. And that overcome by grief and shock, he fails to drive the bus off the body.

Aha. Yes I'm having one of those days and no doubt, others have too. I get these feelings when I encounter extremely lazy people with brains the size of a peanut but they only use less than half a nut to function. These are the people who see only several kinds of people.

1. Their own - one dumb peanut recognises another dumb
peanut.
2. The ones better than them (this is not hard at all)
3. The rich - peanuts determine if the rich can turn them into
peanut butter or if they are something to be looked down
upon. On no account have they ever once thought that
people better off than them have actually had to work
hard in life. No!

I was recently in a position where someone blamed me for losing his job. Hmmmm. I don't know if it was because I felt sorry for him and kindly took him aside to tell him that sitting on the internet 10 hours a day chatting to some online chick he just met was not a good image.

If anyone can tell me what a security guard's job is, please do so.

Plus, there were a few factors that added to me insulting his pride. Apparently, his village boss was also a boss at the firm who had hired him, the primary word being 'WAS'. That to him meant, that if his boss was no longer there, he didn't have to answer to any other superiors. Get my drift?

So of course, him not turning up for work and not informing anybody was all my fault. Him sitting at the computer and not doing his duties was all my fault. The boss noticing his absence and lack of work ethics was once again - all my fault. I suppose he thought the boss was blind and that I had told him. Sigh................................

There are people like this everywhere in the world. But nowhere as prevalent like here in Suva, the capital of Fiji. Expatriots, if you are coming to work here, come armed and with the knowledge that you don't have to bring all your brains. Just a couple of peanuts.

Written by a local.

The First Story

'Popo, can I ask you a question?' Jonathan asked.
'Haaaa, that depends. I won't tell you my age!' Popo replied.
'How come your eyes are blue? I thought that all Asian orientals had brown eyes.'
'Why? Do you think they are pretty?' Popo said again.
'Er yes?'
'I was born with them. However, if you ask my doctor, he'll tell you they are cataracts! He says I'm as blind as a bat! Hmmph. He knows nothing.'
'Cataracts?' Jonathan asked unsurely.
'Disease of the eyes boy. He says that old people get them. But if he thinks that I see with my ears then I'll make him see with his nose!'
'But didn't he make you do an eye test Popo with all the letters?' Jonathan asked.
'Oh yes but when he showed it to me, there weren't any i's in it and when I told him this, he said I had to read the letters. But I tell him there are no letters -' she starts to do her chinese accent again.... 'and me no wanto read somebody letter. Me no rude! Den he say I must read letters small, down, big , up an also backside. He say he fail me because i cant read letters but me laugh ata him because me say me cant read Englis letters. He don't kno dat pepaal sud not read ada peepal's letters!'

The Old Woman

Eight year old Jonathan had noticed her the very first time he passed the window. He did not know why he noticed her but he did. Perhaps it was because he did not know anybody in this new city. He had not made any friends since he started school, not that he cared very much about little people that were only interested in his lunch, his pocket money and his things in his school bag.
Perhaps it was because she caught his stare with piercing almond eyes and made him feel light headed. Like she had seen into his soul. Then the world had felt heavy again and he fell to the ground. When he got up, the old woman was gone. But as he walked home, he could not forget the blue, piercing eyes of the little old chinese woman.
The next few days he caught the old woman sweeping, mopping and wiping the tables and windows. He wondered how she could do all that work and not get tired. He also noticed a big Fijian man in the bar. He looked to be 26 or 27 years old and he was always lying with his feet up at one of the computers. He was not the boss because everytime a dark lady entered the bar, he was always doing something that looked like work. Jonathan didn't like him.
Then one day after school, he caught the old woman reading something. Curiosity overcame him and he decided to walk into the bar. The old woman looked up when he entered. Jonathan looked around. At one side, there was a bar which served food and drinks, another side which had computers and where the old woman was sitting, tables and chairs. The Fijian man was at one of the computers, laughing with headphones on.
'Can I help you child?' It was the old woman. Jonathan looked at her. She was older close up but her eyes, they were alive. He shook his head.
'No mam. I was just looking,' he answered.
'Well look all you like,' she said. 'Just be careful that you do not lose your things in here.'
Jonathan wondered what she meant by that.
A woman behind the bar shouted out. 'Hey Jovelisi, go and clean the windows! You were supposed to do them in the morning!'
The young Fijian man at the computer looked up angrily. 'Can't you see I'm busy talking to my future wife? Tell the stupid old china woman to do it. These people come here and steal our jobs and become rich. Otherwise, tell her to go back to China to the rice farm where she belongs! She's lucky to have such an easy job!'
Jonathan disliked him instantly. He had seen people like him in other countries. His parents worked in different countries all the time and almost every place they had been, they called him spoilt, white rich boy and his parents as job stealers. They didn't realise that his parents were there to help their country, to boost their education system and set up fair policies. They didn't understand that his parents were trying to help them. He had also seen them treat other races badly, especially the ones that worked hard and saved some money for themselves.
He was only eight years old and already he knew that people worked very hard, day and night, from 4am to 11pm trying to put food on the table. That everyday they worried about their children, their education and this made them do any job, anything at all if it meant they could earn some money. He had heard his cousin in England say once, 'Why should we do such dirty jobs? We can leave them to the Polish and Eastern Europeans coming in. They'd work for anything!'
Then when his cousin could not find a job, even as a waiter in a restaurant, he had said, 'We should get rid of all these stinking foreigners. They take all our jobs and we can't even do the dirty ones.'
Jonathan was too young at the time to understand but now that he did, he wished he could have said, 'Bosses don't want to employ lazy, selfish people like you that complain all the time. Bosses want people that work and guess what, all the stinking foreigners work very hard because they know what it's like to have nothing!' As far as he knew, his cousin was still living off the dole.
Jonathan looked at the old woman again. Gathering the courage he asked her, 'What are you reading?'
She rested her blue eyes upon him and said, 'A story. And I am not reading it, I am living it!'
Jonathan didn't understand. The old woman noticed this and smiled.
'What is your name?' she asked.
'Jonathan.'
'Ah, a biblical name. Well Jonathan, you can call me Popo.' She gestured to her book. "I live a story each day Jonathan. Sometimes I can live a story for several days, weeks, months and even years! I live them from my memories, from this world, from insects to fish. I am full of stories and I am a story.'
She leaned foward. Jonathan saw every single wrinkle and age spot on her face. 'My whole face is a story,' and saying that, she leaned back and laughed a giggly girly laugh. Her book fell open in the middle and Jonathan saw that the pages were blank. The old woman was right about one thing - she hadn't been reading.
'Will you tell me a story Popo?' he asked.
Popo stopped laughing and looked at him. She spoke in a strong Chinese accent then. 'Not tude Cho-na-tan. Me have to clean window fo sad computer monkey ova dere. He tink he got wife now afta computer kissy kissy but dat only becos she cannot smell him. You come tomorrow ok? It monkey day off and maybe he go to banana plantation.'
Jonathan smiled and nodded. 'Ok Popo. I will see you tomorrow.'

(to be continued......)