Our past experiences prepare us for our future ones. There is no way of knowing how or when, but I have learned that the timing is up to God. I had no way of knowing as a child and teenager just how much my youth would prepare me for Fiji. I even had a taste of off-the-grid without knowing that’s what it was. You see, when I was nine years old, my family and I uprooted from the suburbs just outside Baltimore City to 52 acres of land in rural, Central Virginia. I went from being houses away from the my best friends and extended family to 25 minutes from any grocery store, my own high school, and an hour from any major city or highway. The land was a steal at the time and the “house” was an added bonus with it….I say that because the house was built in the early 1900s with the kitchen in a separate shed, and hadn’t been lived in for years, maybe even decades! We acquired it with no windows or doors, bullet holes from hunters in the walls, no toilet, bathtub, or kitchen, and a tree growing through the front porch. Basically, it was a barebones, two-story structure that my parents brought back from the dead. You could imagine my excitement when they said it would be “home.”
But like I said, they breathed life back into that house with us four children tagging along, observing skills my parents had that most people don’t possess, or even attempt; plumbing, wallpapering, carpeting, setting up a well, sheering sheep, putting up fencing, drywall, making soap from goat’s milk, using a spinning wheel! In fact, the only thing I don’t remember my parents tackling was perhaps the electrical aspect of home restoration. Chores consisted of planting 5,000 asparagus plants, painting our new house from the inside out (something very familiar since my parents had rental properties in Baltimore), caring for sheep, goats, donkeys, rabbits, pigs, and ponies, collecting chicken eggs, bailing alfalfa hay.
Between the rental properties in Maryland and our place in Virginia, trips to stores like Lowe’s and Home Depot were an every week occurrence. Anyone remember Hechinger’s? We practically lived there. I still remember the jingle: “Hechinger’s! That’s who!” Nostalgia stirs in me whenever I smell house paint, lumber, or plumber's glue. I should also point out that we didn’t live close to anything in Virginia so a run to Lowe’s was a two-hour excursion, similar to the hassle it is out here.
When I said we were off-the-grid for a time, I meant in the sense that we were without power for our first winter in the house. We had two wood-burning stoves for heat, an on-demand hot-water heater like we have here, kerosene lamps for light and a camping stove for cooking. Bathing took place in a metal wash-basin in the middle of the "kitchen" floor, heated pot by pot, or by solar shower bag hanging in a tree, depending on the season. It was a lot like camping for that first year, right before starting school in a new place. Even to this day they have their well, hot-water heater, the slowest internet, and sparse cell phone service—if you're lucky. (Warning: AT&T does not work at their house.) If it wasn’t for the electricity, they would truly be off-the-grid.
So why did I share all of this? Because living in Fiji is like having flashbacks of my childhood! Because this off-the-grid life in Fiji, or anywhere, is not for everyone and I don’t think I could hack it without having already done it. Because it was a character-building life that my parents and God had in store for me and for which I owe them everything. Things of my past are now part of my every day life. And not being a natural risk-taker, I apparently needed decades of preparation.
In the same way our house in Virginia was in shambles, this place was once-upon-a-time a shack infested with rats and just begging to be burned to the ground. Fast forward to present day, this place hardly resembles the house Anna found four years ago. From day one it has been a project and it will continue to be until we are at a minimum, comfortably settled in our new houses. So now that I’ve given you my off-the-grid resume, I can get to the point of today’s post about what we’ve been working on so far:
Coming from the (continental) US where anything and everything is easy and convenient, where you can run to Home Depot or Lowes every day if you wanted, it can be frustrating when projects are dependent on “Fiji time.” This concept seems to be similar on any island around the world, but the truth is you can expect things to take longer—much longer. Erik and I experienced this on day two when we were gung-ho and ready to get a bull-dozer on the property. Welp, that bull-dozer didn’t show up until two days before we left, six months later!
We are too motivated a group to sit around and wait for the dry season in spring so we took matters into our own hands: we brought over with us a sawmill, a plethora of hand and power tools including a nail gun, and an air compressor. Our latest resource is the local mill for big orders and nowadays they are all big orders. The visit to the local mill is an adventure in itself! It’s run by local Fijians/Indians where they still use giant bull-oxen to haul massive trees to the saw, then loaded by hand and sickles. Yet no one seemed to be wearing any protection: no eye or ear pro, no gloves or hard hats, wearing sandals or even barefoot, tank tops and shorts. All the wood we order and use is “Vesi,” an extremely dense wood from 100 year old trees indigenous to Fiji. It’s so hard we have to pre-drill every. single. hole. Not to mention how heavy everything ends up being; well worth it since it will be termite proof and last a lifetime!
Projects tend to get prioritized by improvement of quality of life which turns into a domino effect of ideas. The project we are most excited about is building our houses ourselves! We’ve taken the first steps with leveling and clearing our plots, spread out over the 20 acres. The spot Erik and I have decided on is the highest point of our property, with stunning 360 degree views!
Having more people and able hands makes such a big difference. In our first six months, we completed around 2,000 sq ft of decking (more to come), the second awning, three tables, a weight rack, the coconut station, a chick coop, an incinerator, kitchen counters, and other small projects and decorative touches. Keep in mind this is on “island time,” during the rainy season—the wettest and hottest time of year—with a generator and battery power, while maintaining our chores and sustaining ourselves. If we aren’t building we seem to be digging, clearing, or bull-dozing in preparation for our house plots, gardens, and a well. Sounds a little deja vu-ish doesn't it?
Since we’ve been back, Erik and I have gotten right back into it with the new awning going up and the last of the current wood in sight before we start on the houses, which could be a matter of weeks! There will definitely be more about our house in future posts as well as a “Before and After” unveiling down the road; until then, enjoy the photos of our accomplishments!
But like I said, they breathed life back into that house with us four children tagging along, observing skills my parents had that most people don’t possess, or even attempt; plumbing, wallpapering, carpeting, setting up a well, sheering sheep, putting up fencing, drywall, making soap from goat’s milk, using a spinning wheel! In fact, the only thing I don’t remember my parents tackling was perhaps the electrical aspect of home restoration. Chores consisted of planting 5,000 asparagus plants, painting our new house from the inside out (something very familiar since my parents had rental properties in Baltimore), caring for sheep, goats, donkeys, rabbits, pigs, and ponies, collecting chicken eggs, bailing alfalfa hay.
Between the rental properties in Maryland and our place in Virginia, trips to stores like Lowe’s and Home Depot were an every week occurrence. Anyone remember Hechinger’s? We practically lived there. I still remember the jingle: “Hechinger’s! That’s who!” Nostalgia stirs in me whenever I smell house paint, lumber, or plumber's glue. I should also point out that we didn’t live close to anything in Virginia so a run to Lowe’s was a two-hour excursion, similar to the hassle it is out here.
When I said we were off-the-grid for a time, I meant in the sense that we were without power for our first winter in the house. We had two wood-burning stoves for heat, an on-demand hot-water heater like we have here, kerosene lamps for light and a camping stove for cooking. Bathing took place in a metal wash-basin in the middle of the "kitchen" floor, heated pot by pot, or by solar shower bag hanging in a tree, depending on the season. It was a lot like camping for that first year, right before starting school in a new place. Even to this day they have their well, hot-water heater, the slowest internet, and sparse cell phone service—if you're lucky. (Warning: AT&T does not work at their house.) If it wasn’t for the electricity, they would truly be off-the-grid.
So why did I share all of this? Because living in Fiji is like having flashbacks of my childhood! Because this off-the-grid life in Fiji, or anywhere, is not for everyone and I don’t think I could hack it without having already done it. Because it was a character-building life that my parents and God had in store for me and for which I owe them everything. Things of my past are now part of my every day life. And not being a natural risk-taker, I apparently needed decades of preparation.
In the same way our house in Virginia was in shambles, this place was once-upon-a-time a shack infested with rats and just begging to be burned to the ground. Fast forward to present day, this place hardly resembles the house Anna found four years ago. From day one it has been a project and it will continue to be until we are at a minimum, comfortably settled in our new houses. So now that I’ve given you my off-the-grid resume, I can get to the point of today’s post about what we’ve been working on so far:
Coming from the (continental) US where anything and everything is easy and convenient, where you can run to Home Depot or Lowes every day if you wanted, it can be frustrating when projects are dependent on “Fiji time.” This concept seems to be similar on any island around the world, but the truth is you can expect things to take longer—much longer. Erik and I experienced this on day two when we were gung-ho and ready to get a bull-dozer on the property. Welp, that bull-dozer didn’t show up until two days before we left, six months later!
We are too motivated a group to sit around and wait for the dry season in spring so we took matters into our own hands: we brought over with us a sawmill, a plethora of hand and power tools including a nail gun, and an air compressor. Our latest resource is the local mill for big orders and nowadays they are all big orders. The visit to the local mill is an adventure in itself! It’s run by local Fijians/Indians where they still use giant bull-oxen to haul massive trees to the saw, then loaded by hand and sickles. Yet no one seemed to be wearing any protection: no eye or ear pro, no gloves or hard hats, wearing sandals or even barefoot, tank tops and shorts. All the wood we order and use is “Vesi,” an extremely dense wood from 100 year old trees indigenous to Fiji. It’s so hard we have to pre-drill every. single. hole. Not to mention how heavy everything ends up being; well worth it since it will be termite proof and last a lifetime!
Projects tend to get prioritized by improvement of quality of life which turns into a domino effect of ideas. The project we are most excited about is building our houses ourselves! We’ve taken the first steps with leveling and clearing our plots, spread out over the 20 acres. The spot Erik and I have decided on is the highest point of our property, with stunning 360 degree views!
Having more people and able hands makes such a big difference. In our first six months, we completed around 2,000 sq ft of decking (more to come), the second awning, three tables, a weight rack, the coconut station, a chick coop, an incinerator, kitchen counters, and other small projects and decorative touches. Keep in mind this is on “island time,” during the rainy season—the wettest and hottest time of year—with a generator and battery power, while maintaining our chores and sustaining ourselves. If we aren’t building we seem to be digging, clearing, or bull-dozing in preparation for our house plots, gardens, and a well. Sounds a little deja vu-ish doesn't it?
Since we’ve been back, Erik and I have gotten right back into it with the new awning going up and the last of the current wood in sight before we start on the houses, which could be a matter of weeks! There will definitely be more about our house in future posts as well as a “Before and After” unveiling down the road; until then, enjoy the photos of our accomplishments!
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