Stee is man of kind heart, strong work ethic and family value.
One of people that we were able to connect with is Kris Stice. He and his wife Lindy and their 4 (soon to be 5) children live just outside of Suva, Fiji in a 13 bedroom home at the end of a culd-a-sac. They recently moved into the house which is mostly dilapidated and in need of some extreme TLC.
A family of 7 certainly doesn't require 13 bedrooms and 11 baths. As a matter of fact, the Stice family only live in 3 of the bedrooms themselves. What the Stice's have done is open their home to a set of young adults from local and far away Fijian villages. These are young men that are of good heart, strong work ethic, and family value.
One of the young men, that we became friends with and shared with us his life is a man named Stee. Stee is a large man in his early twenties, a large afro, and strong Fiji feet. He is quiet and soft spoken, confident and calm.
Our first interaction with Stee was at Kris' house as we were out there helping him remodel to support his family and these young men. We were helping to construct a kitchen setup with awkward and heavy structures. When it came time to do some of the heavy lifting, in came this hulk of a man. He quietly came in and lifted the cabinet into place. He waited for further instruction and then departed, He did this several times throughout the day. During his non-lifting times, he could be found outside cleaning, sweeping, and otherwise keeping busy with what was an endless set of chores. not a complaint, nor peep from him outside of his helpful duties.
Our next connection with Stee was the meeting with him at the bus stop in downtown Suva. His role here was to guide us through the maze that is the bus system to a village on the other side of the island. He, with his distinctive look met us with a smile and he instructed us as we made our way to the appropriate bus. His walk was deliberate as he sort of wattled down the street, his feet sliding over both sides of his thin flip-flop shoes. His long jean shorts covered his legs and a tattered shirt tightly covered his bulbous belly. We followed him as he walked us past the police depot, where he had left his belongings (a duffle bag and a well loved guitar in a tattered hard shell case). He slung the bag over his shoulder and used his mitts of hands to pull the case up under his arm like stack of towels headed to the beach. Onto the correct bus (which was surprisingly new and well kept, he stored his belongings below and guided our family to appropriate section, then found himself a window seat where he could plant his oversized frame. He sat there waiting for his isle mate with his lower body spilling over his seat and half way into the next. He stared forward in silence.
Once we arrived in Sigatoka, he quickly gathered his belongings and shepherded us to a local cafe where the boys could get a bite to eat and a cold drink before going into the village. We offered to by him a bite to eat as well. He initially declined, but then convinced him otherwise and he reluctantly ordered a potato filled burrito like food and an orange soda (costing no more than 2 dollars Fijian. As we finished our meal, we asked Stee about some of the traditions we had heard about and urged him to share with us some of those "rules" so we do not offend upon entry and staying at the village. Stee obliged. He highlighted rules about clothing for women...
They must keep both their knees and shoulders covered; The men typically spend time outside working, while the women work in the kitchen and laundry. There are many children, he added, and our boys would be able to hang with them. He also informed us that the family would likely treat us as guests in the village, unless we were forceful in how we behaved. We must demand that we participate in the cleaning, cooking, preparing, working, and other tasks that the villagers perform. He then took us to the local Grog shop where we could by the appropriate 2 bags of powdered Kava to present to the owners of our home-stay upon arrival.
At the village, Stee, though still quiet, provided us (in a just in time fashion) cues on how to behave. For example, as we drove into the Vunavutu village, the local kids have a can placed in the middle of the road. "Do you have 20 cents that you an donate" he said. I pulled it from my pocket and he shoved it through the slot of the aluminum coffee style can. As we arrived into the village "common grounds" he helped us exit from the cab and reminded us that we should just stand and wait as the house was being prepared for our entry. Outside the local neighborhood kids swarmed around, playing still with their soccer ball, bouncing along with their shoeless feet, watching the behavior of the Kreshel boys with lighter skin and (for Creighton) a blonde head of hair. Inside several women used Fijian "Salsa brooms" to sweep out the common room to prepare for our entry. Stee, despite his family being so close and available, stayed with us and helped us to wait for the right time to make entry.
Once we entered the home, Stee too provided us the appropriate level of guidance and freedom of experiencing a village for the first time. He waited as we were each greeted one by one by his cousins. Their tongues spoke in their Fijian language, while Stee translated the key elements. This was a critical component, as our host was following a tightly scripted protocol of how visitors are to be received. From the offering of the Kava, to its consumption, through the placing of our personal items into a pre-set bedroom, we followed the guidelines and support of Stee.
As our host excused our kids to go outside and play with the other boys and girls, Stee nodded deliberately as to say, relax, the environment is safe and amongst the 15 or so children outside playing a variety of sports and activities, your kids will acclimate just fine. He was right, of course and the Kreshel boys stayed outside for the rest of the day, barely acknowledging our existence in the village, except for the occasional interest in a drink of water.
As part of the inside activities Stee performed a critical component of the Kava ceremony, which was the calm and zoning factor. He pulled out his guitar and strummed a few songs as the room drank a few bowls of Kava each and mellowed to the music.
When it was time to get to work on a previously discussed service project that we could do with and for the village, Stee informed us that it was time and told me that it was time to go. Karen was to stay with the women and prepare for dinner. He walked myself and one other family member out to the road to wait for the cab, got us into town and translated as we made the appropriate purchases. Once we got back to the village, Stee was one of the absolute first family members to pick up a tool and start working.
When it was time to intervene, Stee intervened. When it was time for us to experience and learn about the village, he did that too. For a little over 24 hours, he helped us become acquainted with the members of the Vunavutu village and lifestyle that they generally lead: Working the plantation; Pounding the Kava root; Chopping wood; Playing soccer with the kids; Preparing meals; Doing Laundry; Feeding the pig; Chatting with family; Drinking Kava; Playing in the ocean; collecting Coconuts; Visiting the neighbors; Going to the market.
As we departed Vunavutu, Stee was there for us also. He showed us the appropriate way to respectfully depart. Got us to the right bus, found us the right taxi and made sure we were safely to our destination. He even had his little brother check on us at our resort where he was playing in the on-site band.
Thanks Stee!
