Tribewanted: Vorovoro

On Vorovoro, it’s the chicken.

Late last June 2007, when I left my fabulous 10 days at Tribewanted, everyone was excited about the pending chicken project. Coops were being built and chicks and hens and roosters were going to be bought so we’d have our own sustainable chicken farm.

I had visions of omelets for breakfast and maybe the occasional chicken dinner by the sea.

Much to my surprise, when I arrived May 17, 2008, the large coop was smashed in (presumably by the hurricane?) and full of weeds, as was the smaller (mating?) pen. The medium coop was basically fine with a few weeds to be removed and a few nails needed. I must have missed the newsletter describing what happened, I thought.

The future June Chief, Tom, happened by as I was looking at the medium pen. He taught me about the hen-laying process (I’m a city slicker) and showed me what needed to be done to secure the coop from escaping chickens. Encouraged by Tom’s knowledge and enthusiasm for a potential future project, I decided that Tribewanted need to try again and started weeding out the pen.

And what I love most about this story is the team effort amongst the Tribe members, Team Fiji and the TW staff.

I asked if Jone (Johnny) Robinson could go with me to buy the chicken, knowing that a tourist in Labasasa was fair game for a mishap. (At my request, Jone had found out earlier in the week that an egg-laying hen would cost about $20 Fiji. GM Giles concurred.) The Wise and Wonderful Tevita agreed that it was best to take a Fijian and approved Jone’s assistance. Giles set up all of the logistics of getting Jone and me into town by boat and then bus. I felt badly because I didn’t know it was Jone’s day off when I asked for his help – I just assumed he’d be driving the TW boat when I went. So Jone’s contribution was giving up half of his day-off.

I had assumed we’d go to the outdoor market where we buy our kava and negotiate a good price for some chickens between various vendors, with the promise of buying more in the future if they performed well. HA! No such thing, it was explained. Everyone saves their chickens for their own eggs etc. The locals either buy baby chicks at $5 each, or they do it the old-fashioned way and have a rooster and a few hens go on holiday. Since the chicks take 6 months to become egg-laying hens, and my objective was to have TW members eating fresh eggs – tomorrow – those weren’t the solutions.

So on to Crest, the local chicken distributor, which Giles and the market vendor both recommended. Jone negotiated a taxi for us to get there and back for $5 F, as it’s too far to walk. You think Security at the airports is rough? It’s nothing compared to the barbed wire fence and the size of the Security Guard to get into Crest. (Apparently, they’ve had problems with thefts.) Okay, so now we’re talking chickens, I thought. They must have skillions with this security.

Nope. They only sell feed, the baby chicks or the um, ones prepackaged. Pleading with the nice manager that there must be someone in town who sells chickens. I ask from whom do they buy their chickens? He picks up the phone and calls his farmer. The farmer has five chickens for $100 Fiji. GREAT! I smile. I’ll take them.

“But he won’t sell them to you.”

What!? Why? “They won’t lay eggs for another month.” But I don’t have another month! “Sorry. Maybe the Indian Bakery out of town will sell you a chicken,” the manager offers. Bakery? Ok, this is Fiji, don’t ask. Greatly appreciating the Crest Manager’s and farmer’s honesty, we thank them for their help, hop in our taxi and drive out of town to the Bakery.

At this point, I’m so desperate I would have flown to Nadi for a damn chicken. I’m also wondering what Jone must be thinking, in between helping interpret and rolling his eyes at me. I’m also sure there must be an APB (All Points Bulletin) warning everyone to run into their homes immediately and protect their chickens from the crazy white woman, zooming around town with the affable Fijian and the befuddled Indian driver, and begging to buy “just one” chicken.

We arrive at the Bakery fifteen minutes later, and notice on the front porch a lovely display of cartons of eggs, priced at $3.30F per dozen. We’re getting closer, I thought. Third time’s the charm. I approach the gentleman with his snow-white hair and beard and traditional Indian attire. I explain my story of needing “One chicken to lay an egg tomorrow.” “One chicken?” he asks incredulously like everyone else. He gently suggests I speak with his son. I go into the “Bakery” which is one of those wonderful Mom & Pop all-purpose stores with the wooden floors, Coca-cola, Oreos, soap suds, and an array of other necessities. I make my request to the young man behind the counter. He hears me out, turns on his heel and goes to the back office. He returns, informing me his older brother won’t sell me a chicken. “May I speak with him?” I inquire. Out comes the man in charge repeating his stand. I give him my spiel about how much we needed a chicken on Vorovoro, practically insinuating there’s a rare epidemic on the island that somehow one chicken would miraculously cure.

While the elder son is mulling this over, I call upon my best fundraising skills and seize the moment. “How much do you want?” I ask. “Fifty dollars,” he responds. “Fifty dollars! I exclaim. “No, fifteen. One. Five.” “Oh,” I hesitate – for about two seconds. “Deal.”

I had given up on buying more than one chicken. I was also feeling a tad guilty for getting the chicken for $15. So to make up for it, I spent another $9 in the store by purchasing some yummy buns with gobs of sweet butter, Oreo’s, water and a pack of cigarettes for Jone as a thank you.

By now, as we race out to the chicken farm, our driver is getting into the whole adventure, knowing the cab fare has increased threefold and enjoying the sweet buns with Jone and me. We pick up Ili (Fijian for Elizabeth), the most beautiful chicken in the world. I “inspect” her, having no clue, and not caring at this point, whether she will produce or not. I promise her, as she is put into a sack, that she will have her own home in paradise, she will be well fed and never eaten. All she has to do is produce one egg….tomorrow. I felt we truly bonded.

But our tale is not over quite yet. We return to Crest to buy the feed, negotiated down from $25 to $22.50. While the cabbie and I waited for Jone to put the 25 lb sack of feed in the car, I lovingly look into Ili’s bag on the floor to bond further. She, on the other hand, apparently did not buy my story and flew up out of the sack into my face, aiming for the open car windows! Seeing my investment fly out the window, literally, I reacted quickly. By the grace of God, I caught her the right way, holding her wings down so I could pet her and calm her down. The cabbie was my hero, running around to my side and helping put her in the sack again. When Jone came back, he realized we needed a box and worked with the Crest staff to get one with holes and made a string handle so we could carry her properly.

The fact that a hen removed from her regular coop, taken for a cab ride and then a 35 minute boat ride out to strange surroundings, would most likely not lay an egg any time soon, never occurred to me. Fortunately, none of the chicken-wise folks on Vorovoro had the heart to tell me that. I was on a mission and Ili was now my co-pilot.

Thanks to Ben Katz, the new Sustainability Manager, the sturdy coop built by Tribewanted and Team Fiji last year was already fixed up with a new four-section nesting box. Like Giles, I’m sure Ben thought I was crazy, but still provided me the latitude to pursue my goal, which is a nice feeling.

The next morning, we held our collective breath. Time passed and so did morning tea. No egg. Hmmm. Would I still have the proverbial egg on my face? I wondered. But soon thereafter, three Tribbies came to tell me Ili had laid an egg! A beautiful, brown, AA Large egg! I was just as proud as if I had laid the egg myself or had at least given birth to Ili!

Price of Fijian chicken no one wants to sell? $15
Price of taxi ride in search of said chicken? $15
Price of holding the first warm egg laid for Tribewanted? Priceless

While this might seem to you as an extravagant project, it wasn’t for me. I learned so much watching and taking care of Ili every day. Plus it was a rush gathering her daily egg (she didn’t produce on Sunday – I figure she was either a Christian or “took off” like everyone else.) It was also a thrill to give Tui Mali the first egg at Sevusevu, thanking him for allowing us to be here on magical Vorovoro and asking for his blessing. In return, he gave me some kava, which we all enjoyed later.

My hope is that the folks who said they’d keep the project going will be able to do so by buying more chickens and a rooster. Baby chicks will follow! As they plan to leave Vorovoro, it’s important that Chicken Council members to teach new Tribbies how to care for them. After all, there are 14 months remaining. And while we’ll need the guidance and the continuity of Team Fiji and TW staff to pass on whatever information is needed, it’s my personal feeling that it is not their job to make sure the chickens are fed or cared for. (Apparently, this was part of the problem in the past – no Tribe members helped out.) With 30 Tribbies on the island now, a simple ten minutes in the morning and afternoon by TW volunteers will ensure the project’s existence by making sure the chickens have feed and fresh water. For those who really want to help, the lovely Va taught me that chickens like crushed shells from the beach (good calcium sources for their own eggshells) and grass. Waiting for the sunset on the beach is a lovely time to gather the little shells and the grassy areas are always in need of trimming!

Needless to say, I’d LOVE to hear Jone’s version of this story. Suffice it to say that every time Jone and Captain Api saw me, they’d tease me with a hearty cackle of baaaach, baaach, baach, baach! And that was good enough for me.

Submitted by Elizabeth “Ili” Montgomery
AKA The Chicken Whisperer
Los Angeles, CA
June 9, 2008