old bergerky-chooken-p

Fiji was filled with delightful chance encounters. When it seems you are in the most remote place with no-one to be seen, someone will suddenly pop out of nowhere.

Driving along the surrounding dirt roads we encountered many instances where someone would pop out, wave hello to us as they crossed the road, then disappear into the bushes on the other side of the road.
Usually this was someone with a goat.
Sometimes it was an old man with a young grandchild, and once it was two young boys balancing a large suitcase while riding bareback together on one tired old looking horse. (We laughed about the possibilities of them going to the airport, or perhaps running away from home).

One day we walked all the way to the end of a very long beach looking for a good spot to snorkel out near the point. We hadn’t seen anyone. Then, out of the nearby shrubs appeared a man carrying a jerry can in one hand and a small fish in the other. He came right up to us, introduced himself and shook our hands. He pointed out his village around the point and told us about the dolphins and the island across the channel.

During the conversation he asked how old we were.
Mr You: 31
Fish Man: Yes yes 31 (then he looks at me)
Flossy-p: I’m 29
Fish Man: No no. Not 29. You look… You look… like a chicken.

Not sure if he meant old chook, spring chicken, or literally that I look like a chicken, I was never to know.

He immediately went on to ask if we were married, being in a heavily Christian country, Mr You lied “yes”. I hid my left hand from view, but not quickly enough. Much like my age and species, he didn’t believe us. I avoided lying by telling him we’ve been together for 9 years (which is the truth).
“Oh” he said seeming impressed. And he went on for another 10 mins telling us that it’s not the ring that matters, it’s the size of your heart, and the amount of love within it that counts.

Then he waved goodbye, waded into the water, and swam across the channel towards the island, (presumably still holding his jerry can and small fish), leaving this delighted old chook feeling enchanted by his presence and impressed with his understanding wisdom. (But also determined to start a rigorous neck exercise regime on our return home, to rid myself of any flappy-chicken-neck that may be evident to complete strangers).

Visit my Flickr for more photos -of Fiji that is, not my neck.

Although this story may seem strange, it's nowhere near as odd as the story 'Noah from Chicago' told us about the man who appeared the night after with a pack of Barbie branded Uno cards. He insisted everyone play, then after a few rounds he disappeared into the night; never seen before and never to be seen again. A Uno loving phantom we thought...