I looked forward to revisiting my friends in Kuku on my final weekend in Fiji. There truly was no place else in the country that I’d rather be. I arrived just before sunset. So, it was dark when nature called and I needed to go outside to the bathroom.
It was a flush toilet, so there are no outhouse horror stories to relate.
However, the horror sort of happened on the way. There were three steep steps from the home to the level of the bathroom. The steps were wooden planks with space between them. Since the home did not yet have electricity, there was no light to turn on. I grabbed on to the door jam, and managed to hit the steps just right, or rather, just wrong. I stepped into the void between two planks and I took my second trip to Fiji.
It could have been awful. One of my friends recently broke her ankle on a stairway, and although there wasn’t much time to think of anything, I thought about her on the way down. When the tumbling was over, I had some cuts on a foot that could have been broken. My right wrist was ever so slightly sprained. It, too, could have been broken. And, for the second time in less than a week, I really knocked my skull and got a bump. The pair of bulges on the side of my head were about an inch apart. (In case you just have to know, the first bump came when I plowed into an overhead beam at the mural project. I watched where I stepped but not where I was going.)
My hosts were horrified. I assured them that it could have been a disaster. This was a lucky break that broke nothing. And, I got the medical treatment I needed. I washed my foot at the kitchen sink by candle light. Yes, I was very grateful for running water. I came prepared with medical ointment in my travel bag. And, I even got ice for my bump. I’m not exactly sure where the ice came from, but I think it was some kind of frozen treat.
After treatment, Simi, my vasili friend, walked me over to the neighbor’s house for yet another round of kava. I stuck to my two cup limit which nobody could really understand. Nothing could convince me to try more. But, the neighbors were equally concerned about my wounded foot. And, they thought it was time for a local treatment. Was I up for “mile a minute”?
I really wasn’t sure.
The wife went out into the bush to gather her supplies while someone in the house explained. “Mile a minute” is a local creeping plant that gets its name because of the speed it grows. It would help my wound. It also relieved the itch of mosquito bites and, if I drank it, it was supposed to reduce high blood pressure. As we sat around the tanoa filled with kava, I stretched out my foot over a plastic bag. Then, “mile a minute” was squeezed over my wounds. In the darkness, I never saw the plant, but it had so much liquid that I thought it was mixed with water. No, that wasn't the case. That was one juicy plant and the liquid was a local antibiotic. My hosts asked me if it stung.
That would be a yes.
In the light of day, I saw that creeper. It truly was all over the neighborhood. If you just squeeze the leaves, no juice comes out. You need to take three leaves and briskly roll them in your hand to get the healing flow.
I take medical help whenever I can get it, but this is one of the stranger treatments I’ve ever had. For the record, my most unusual treatment was for a massive headache while in Morocco. My landlady prepared some herbs into a green paste and then wrapped it all around my head with a turban. Both treatments appeared to work.
In the morning, the bump was gone, the wounds were healing nicely, but my wrist was still very tender. Rest assured, I used a lantern the next time nature called. I didn’t want to fall a mile a minute, do anything faster than a speeding bullet or have another trip in Fiji.
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