Back at home there are few nights when I remember getting to stay up late. The most infamous of which being New years eve, where beyond staying awake well beyond my bed time it wasn’t uncommon to sample fine champagne with the rents.
Well in Fiji Diwali is this type of holiday, except that instead of drinking bubbly kids get to shoot fireworks into the sky under the lazy supervision of on looking adults. Dale and I had never previously experienced the Indian holiday, first hearing about it just nights before when we covered a Diwali celebration at Krishna Hall. Dale got a good story out of the event, and I got free food; spoils of a posing cameraman.
Diwali is mainly celebrated at night, though I do think there were some day time festivities being held downtown. At about seven we leave our apartment. Our downstairs neighbour, Ron, or more popularly known as ‘The Educator’, is the principal of a small school called the learning center. After befriending him we were granted an invitation to a Diwali celebration at his school.
We met him one fine evening when me and Dale were bored on a Saturday night. We were having a drink outside our apartment when we noticed him sitting on his front stoop on the lower level of the unit. Paint chips fell off the white metal gate as we opened it to ascend the stairs down to his dwelling.
We cracked some beers sat down and chatted about where we were from, and what we were doing. After that the ball was in his court, and he chatted non stop about his school, the superior teaching methods he helped develop; about the advantages of smaller class sizes as well as charities and awareness programs that his school is involved in.
He went on about newspapers, mainly the Fiji Times, that posted advertisements for these events for free, and discussed the possibilities of doing the same with the Daily Post. It became apparent very early on that this man was not going to change the subject on his own.
Me and Dale endeavoured to re-direct the flow by commenting on how everybody drinks grog in Fiji, to which he responded, “well you know my school has a kava bowl as well.” We tried to bring up music to which he proudly stated, “All the students at my school have recorders.”
I than brought up that I am currently learning Spanish and he happily retorted, “Well we teach languages at my school, maybe you could come and learn.” At some point in the night we got talking about Diwali and, of course, his school happened to be having a Diwali celebration. This is how we ultimately ended up with the invitation.
So me and Dale set off to the school. Still being early we decide to walk in lieu of a cab. Strolling down the street we get lost in conversation until about four or five blocks from our house two girls we pass by ask us where were from.
We start to notice that in Fiji it isn’t uncommon for a girl to stop a guy in the street and flirt with him. At first I thought it was just because we were tourists, or because we were such handsome tourists, but it was becoming clear that these weren’t the only two factors weighing in.
The two girls, who appeared in light blue coloured old school ski jackets with rips all over the place, weren’t the most homely types. We remained pleasant none the less until they bothered off. We laughed about them as they trailed further and further behind us.
Very suddenly they are somehow crossing the street about a half block ahead of us. They had no way getting there so fast and without us noticing. Fearing witch craft we both stop with the jokes, and nothing bad, so far, has befallen on us. Soon after this encounter we find ourselves lost and teetering on tardiness. It seems the time that we held in abundance, that lead us to walk, has been slowly sneaking off into the shadows of the night.
We know no street names and the cabs we stop know nothing about our destination. Not knowing whether we have already walked too far or not we decide its best to head back, and worse comes to worse we can simply re track our steps and head into the right direction.
We begin guessing side streets, walk block after block into dead ends, end up back at the main road only to pick another street to walk down. How long must we be so lost we think to ourselves as we head off the main street back into uncertainty.
This time we guess right, and far down the street we can already hear the explosions of fireworks at the finally nearby school as flaming balls rock the starry night.
None of the noise could have prepared us for it. It was like a war scene right out of a movie. A hundred or more kids all stand at the edge of a rectangle school yard. Almost every single one is holding a roman candle; and they are all firing them under minimum supervision.
Larger bottle rockets are going off in the mean time, and Dale and myself are stunned, star struck, by the utter mayhem. The smell of burnt powder is the only thing noticeable as we look through the large clouds of sitting
smoke. The kids smile and laugh run through the middle with falling flames looming just overhead without a care in the world.The event had to be sanctioned and so a fire truck was present with one the chiefs watching over things. I turn to him, “This doesn’t seem very safe to me, what do you think”. He chuckles at the comment, stating “no, safe isn’t what I’d call it either”. But safe or not, the anarchy continues.
At some point in the night, amidst the whining of fireballs and screaming of kids, we sneak into the school house for some dinner. On the way a little girl not paying much attention has a roman candle aimed towards Dale, and she watches in horror as the fireball whisks past his head just barely missing it.
After we stuff ourselves we take another look around the playground. The fireworks are running out now, and what were constant explosions before slow down to an intermittent yell, like the spinning of a fan after it’s shut off.
We take leave on this note, sneaking off without being noticed. As we walk away we see and hear the celebrations in the distance. We enjoy the night, and grow excited for when it will actually be Diwali, which is just three days away
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