Claydog Millionaire

It is hard to summarise in just a few paragraphs the activity of fifteen people. It’s made harder still when they’re all living and working in a vibrant Fijian village. So instead I’ve decided to focus on one individual, a unique chap who told me not 4 hours ago that rather than writing his own personal trip journal he just plans to copy and paste the blog once he’s back in Blighty. It could only be – my Buddy and your friend – Tom ‘Claydog’ Claydon.

Tom starts his day cursing the name of Sani the Terrible two-year-old who wakes him up with her unique vocal stylings at 3am sharp every morning. At half past seven ‘Top Cat’ tucks in to some breakfast. At 7.31 he reclines for his post breakfast/pre-briefing nap. And kills a few flies. Obviously everyone loves the morning briefing and Tom is no exception. A standard conversation will go something like this:

TC : What did you have for breakfast?
TO: I had papaya and scones.
TC: I had porridge. It was (awesome / rubbish) delete where appropriate.

So after concluding the meeting by examining one another’s infected toes we all head off to our respective projects. After a morning of hard graft there’s nothing Tom likes more than a good bit of food and a quick nap, be it on the build or at Kindi the lunch break is a high point of the day. He’ll also kill a handful of flies with a hefty chunk of breadfruit. Sooner or later it gets round to crossing the water to Moturiki and to school. At this point in the day Tom likes to taunt the Gods of the sea. He does this in two ways, first by refusing to wear any kind of protective footwear over the stony crossing and secondly by ignoring the Assiki-approved pathway. Tom’s feet are frequently cut to ribbons, but at least he showed that bloody Poseidon who’s boss. After school it’s time for an hour of rugby coaching which typically consists of watching Joe our favourite kid in class 1 run in the wrong direction, eat snails and generally act a bit weird.

Next is rugby training with the village men. Tom dictates play, cuts some lines and generally makes it rain. Standard. Flies everywhere drop from the air, stunned by his raw pace and natural ability. On arrival back into the village a quick lap of the TP houses is in order on the hunt for bread and jam. After a shower Tom bookends his dinner with a couple of naps, then he kills a few flies and it’s off for the evening’s entertainment. Whether it’s a night of hop-hop or the weekly quiz, Tom gives his all. Often to be found hiding in the back of the grog shed to avoid dancing he is still always quick with a Fijian obscenity or a quote from ‘The Other Guys’. To finish the day Tom smashes a couple of flies from the air with his toothbrush as he brushes his teeth and heads for bed.

PEACE