Suva’s Smells
p. 84 · Read in the full issue
They’ve taken all the odour out of Suva — At least, a lot that we could do without.
We now have sewers, and a dhoti’d Indian sweeper To push the dirt and bits of peel about.
'They’ve built posh banks and purified the cafes; The taxi drivers wash and clean their cars; The household refuse is collected daily; They’ve got hot water in the public bars!
Some smells remain—the copra in the go-downs Wavers richly on the evening air; The lazy, muddy, winding tidal water.
At low tide hints of garbage lying there.
The rich perfume of creamy frangipani Mingles with curry and chuppati at day’s end — There’s the biting tang of freshly uncapped lager — Which makes the heat a temporary friend.
They’ve taken all the odour out of Suva, But practiced nostrils even now can tell The homely, earthy, sweaty tropic magic That sweeps the memory with an old, familiar smell.