I thought I knew a fair amount about water - until I came to Fiji. I remember from school that this life sustaining compound makes up approximately 60% of my body and that the best water in the world comes from Fiji (sorry folks, but that's an undeniable fact). After serving here for nine months I've gained an even greater appreciation for H2O, having previously taken it so much for granted.
We are fortunate to have our water solar heated, and there seems to be plenty of sunshine to do the job on a regular basis. Although our shower is just 30"x30", I look forward to that nice warm water each day. And changing water filters in our kitchen has become second nature to us now.
The car wash is amazing. Usually two or three energetic people, using a hose, scrub every square inch of the car by hand and vacuum the interior for a very minimal fee. The amazing thing is that the water from the hose does not spot at all. It just sheets off and the windshield looks like it has disappeared.
Now, on a much larger scale how much H2O do we see falling from the sky? Well, if you're in the U.S, here's the average annual precipitation in a few places:
Salt Lake City, Utah - 16 inches per year
Honolulu, Hawaii- 17 inches per year
Seattle, Washington - 36 inches per year
New Orleans, Louisiana - 67 inches per year
Now, are you ready for this? Drum roll please... Suva, Fiji - 118 inches per year!!! By the way, Funafuti, Tuvalu which we've travelled to twice, has an average annual precipitation of 136 inches per year. Stop and imagine that for a moment.
Before arriving in Fiji, we thought, "Well, it must rain every day." Not so. But when it does rain it certainly gets your attention. Here's a demo of a beautiful Suva, Fiji rainstorm. As you walk over to your kitchen faucet, imagine one of the most beautiful places on earth. Then turn the water on, full force fairly quickly, let it run for a minute or two, then turn it off fairly quickly. Not very scientific, but you get the idea. It's wonderful because usually when it begins (with very little notice), you can stand in a doorway or bus shelter for the brief duration of the storm, then step out into beautiful golden sunlight with birds singing and plants looking refreshed.
That is, unless a tropical depression or cyclone comes calling. By the way, I personally like the fact that these huge storms are being named with female AND male names. I'm a strong woman, but why should all of the Katrinas and Patricias in the world feel bad when their namesake storm tears apart communities?
Because Fiji is built on volcanic rock, all of this rain drains off fairly quickly. However when the cyclone season arrives (November-April), all bets are off. Rivers that normally provide transportation can come crashing over the banks, destroying homes. When water and winds combine, then you're really in for it with cyclones and tsunamis. I've learned the difference between a Category 1 cyclone (hurricane or typhoon, depending on where you live) with winds of only 63-88 kph, and a Category 5 cyclone with winds in excess of 200 kph. That was Winston, three weeks ago - a Category 5. These winds were experienced by many people in various communities in Fiji. Lives were lost and villages destroyed. The Fiji government, other governments, non-governmental organizations, churches, and communities are working together to clean up, provide housing, food, and water, to replant, and to encourage. The strong Fiji spirit and community love are evident everywhere.
In other places we've visited, because of the rising sea levels, an entire small country might disappear. How do you cope when the highest point in your island nation is just 15 feet, the sea rises and a giant wave approaches?
I think I'm learning my lesson. Water is obviously essential and life-saving, but can also be deadly.
OK Mother Nature - I am in awe of water. It has definitely gained my respect.
