Shandala: Nearly 300 years ago, white explorers first discovered the Fijian islands. Missionaries soon followed, eager to spread the word of God amongst the heathens. What they witnessed chilled their souls. It was unholy. Unspeakable. Unfathomable. Unforgivable. They ate their enemies. To the old chiefs, this act was a right. The vanquished foe now belonged entirely to them. Flesh and bone and brain would yield strength, fertility, and wisdom. The missionaries were fierce in their opposition and the tribes responded in kind. That was nearly 300 years ago. Things have changed. Most Fijians now accept Jesus Christ as their personal savior. They work at colorful resorts, catering to visitors from the West. White skin is a common sight in Fiji. Except here on Lomalagi. This stranger is not welcome. I stare at his face, disturbed by a feeling of familiarity... and the fact that this is the first white man I have seen in more than 10 years. His men are less forthcoming. They lurk in the shadows, awaiting permission to taste of our food and drink. But our men have other ideas. Their eyes gleam with ancient memory. The lure of the forbidden still lingers. My adopted father rules here. He is not a violent man. But he will judge the stranger harshly. For he is white and he wishes to take me away.