We arrived at Nagara Bay around 10am. The wind is blowing 15-20 knots SE on the outside but the hill on the east side of the bay is high enough to provide good protection. It is nice and flat on the inside. Every so often a gust of wind blows down through the canyon. But after our overnight sail we look forward to sleeping well tonight. We anchored next to our mates on the catamaran 'Margarita' who we last saw in the Northern Lau three weeks ago. 'Lisa Kay' is here. We met the Andersons in Ventura before we left in '09 and are good friends. They have a son Ben who hung out with our godson Evan when he was here a month ago. Another couple from Ventura who we met briefly in Mexico when they were on their last boat 'Pax Nautica' are now in this anchorage in their new and very flash Dashew designed motor yacht called 'Buffalo Nickel'. And we can't forget new friends Iris and Alex on 'Alaeris' from NYC. 'Margarita' had only just arrived at Nagara as well so we decided to take our dinghy and go to shore together to do our sevu sevus. Me dressed in a very conservative blouse which covered my shoulders and grabbing our bundle of yaqona, we dropped the dinghy in the water and went to pick up Bruce and Dinah, who were bringing in a fish they had just caught instead of kava. It was a very low tide so we got as close as we could (which was still a long ways out) and hopped out, holding our shorts up trying not to get too wet. We walked the dinghy in a bit further and Don set the dinghy anchor in the sandy mud. We could see a group of kids hurrying towards us so we quickly put on our sulus (me a sarong to cover my knees and thighs) and went in and said 'Bula Bula'! We were met with smiles all around and a chorus of very young 'Bulas' in return. The chief, named Isea walked up. He is an older man with a pleasant aura and a very bad eye (maybe glaucoma?). His son, also named Isea was with him, a nice looking man of about thirty. We introduced ourselves all around and with a child in each hand followed the chief to a small meeting room. We removed our shoes and stepped inside. We then sat in a circle on woven mats on the floor, the chief surrounded by his grandchildren. They were all smiley faces full of curiosity about us, and some amount of reverence to their grandfather and to the occasion. Don presented the chief with our bundle of yaqona, and Bruce layed the fish (wrapped in a plastic bag) on the mat in front of him. He clapped three times, spoke in Fijian for about 30 seconds and then accepted our sevu sevu, granting us free access to the water, the land and also offering the protection of the village. He asked if we'd like to have the children give us a tour of their school and we said absolutely. Walking down the path towards the school, more children seemed to come out of nowhere. Along the way, several older women came out of their homes, walked up and shook our hands and introduced themselves. Their homes are very simple, some with hardly a door or windows. I try not to peer inside but it's not hard to see that there's usually no furniture at all, just woven mats on the floors and maybe a few blankets thrown here and there. Inside one home there was a big pile of dried pandamus leaves, waiting to be woven into something useful or perhaps to be sold in Suva. By the time we had followed the path out of the village and back to the school area, the two teachers had joined us. There were about 20 kids walking along - some were running amok, but we were reminded that it is school holidays. A few of the boys had long sticks connected to half a coconut shell and were pushing them around like cars or more likely boats. It turns out that the school actually boards 23 children, ages 5 to 12, who stay there Monday through Friday. Several children walk over from a nearby village on Sunday afternoon and stay all week. Even the children who live here in Nagara stay at the school during the week (seems weird to me, maybe I've got that wrong, not sure). The government provides funds to feed the children during the week and the families take turns each day, rotating between cooks and chaperones at night. We saw the sleeping room, maybe a dozen large wooden bed frames, each big enough for two, three or even four kids. Each child brings his own bedding and mosquito nets are also set up. But since it is a school holiday none of that was there, just the barren old bedframes. To me it looked very bleak indeed, also prison-like but they don't seem to know the difference and at least they are getting some education even out here in this remote area. We also stuck our noses into the dining room, also very bleak I thought, but of course probably a very happy place when food is served. Some of the rascals were jumping up on the tables and being a bit naughty but they were just showing off for the 'palangis'. We saw their classrooms too, barren walls which should be covered with educational posters and maps, looking completely forgotten by the government who is supposed to be educating them. But, at the same time, the children all seem very happy. Some quite snotty nosed and could maybe use a good wash, but other than that, healthy and happy. I took quite a few pictures of the kids and they just love to pose and act up in front of the camera. Then they crowd all over you to see themselves in the viewfinder. On the way back to the boat, Dinah gave one of the girls a deck of playing cards and sat on the grass and played a game with them. I brought my little wombat puppet and I sat down on the grass with several 2, 3 and 4 year olds circled around me. I put my hand into my backpack, and into the doll and brought wombie up into their view and made a few noises and gestures. The kids were amazed and even pulled back a bit. I tried to pet the wombat and show them how to be soft and kind to it but they wanted to grab and even hit the puppet. Have they never seen a puppet before? Don't they have dollies and stuffed animals at all? I am reminded of when we were at Albert's Cove when Evan was visiting. We met an older man and woman who were helping to build a house for their son, his young wife and baby. The house was made from hand cut and stripped trees and bamboo, with woven palm-frond walls and a thatched roof. I gave a bag of cookies and some tea bags to the older woman. Although she of course knew what tea was, I don't think she had ever seen it in a teabag before.... OK, back at Nagara Bay...we stopped and had a look at the church, Fijian Methodist. A pretty big building with pews and all. We were invited to come in for the service at 10am Sunday morning. Seeing the whole village turn up in their Sunday best to worship...it's a special way to get closer to the people.