I am writing this from Nanuya Lailai, a tiny island inhabited by fewer than 100 people in the Yasawas archipelago off the west coast of Fiji's main island. My younger daughters and I are staying in the Gold Coast Inn. It is a homestay with Elie and her husband John, who live in two rooms of the big house, where we eat meals and charge our electronics.

I would gauge them to be in their 40s. John is tall, muscular, handsome. He has a touch of gray in his beard and is missing his top two front teeth. My daughter Adelaide said Elie looks like some sort of goddess or muse. Elie moves like soft wind and waves. She is also tall and sturdy with a shortish afro that reminds me of Octavia Butler or a young Maya Angelou. Both she and John have high, friendly laughs. Everyone here goes barefoot.

Adelaide, Stella, and I sleep in half of the girls' dorm. It is steps away from the ocean. You rinse your feet in a basin of water by the door to keep out the sand. There is no electricity. Our room is divided from the other side by a wall, but we share the ceiling. That means we can hear the two young women in the other room, speaking French. On our first night there it housed two Australians who have since moved on.

The shared bathroom consists of a little row of stalls a few feet away from our........

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