Danny's English to Fijian translation = Silence

Great news, I had a fun filled Fijian life this weekend, which of course came with the a whole ton of Fiji time. Saturday, March 27 I woke at my normal go get them time of 7 am, but for a reason. I found out the night before that USP Rugby had a game at 9 am and the bus was leaving at 8. So, I downed my breakfast of champions, leftover curry and Fijian tea, which is nothing more than a lemon tree leaf from my yard powdered milk and sugar, yummy! As I approached the area which I figured would have been about the correct area to be meeting there seemed to be a lack of players around. I stopped and asked directions to where the bus would be meeting, and it turns out I was where I needed to be and it was 7:55. There were 3 of us all together at 8 going to a 15 man rugby match. The idea of needing me to play was brought up and I just acted like I didn’t understand them with the same half smirk and eyebrow raise I get from them after every sentence I say to a local. Turns out 10 people showed up by 8:45 and then we began to depart. Luckily we were able to pick up a number of guys on the way there on their way to the 8 am departure point. But no worries we were still a man short, but Fiji time will pull through in the end.
Before the game people began to arrive just randomly however they decided was proper, and we had 17 people at the beginning. I found pregame warm-ups quite interesting. Let’s just say it isn’t really on the level of organization that I’m accustomed to. The game begins and what do you know more and more players continue to appear out of nowhere just like that. Without a second thought the coach throws them into the game. “What just like that no punishment or at least a good yelling at?” I was baffled, but I suppose serves us right to lose for such a disregard for timeliness. After the grueling defeat we, being the big, burly, bruised, bloody, and beaten we are, busted out the vocals for a good hymn to calm the nerves and relax before the next game. “I know the Lord…” “Who makes a way.” Who knew such macho men could harmonize so well, but in their sweaty glory I too became very sweaty from being forced clung to with a chunky arm squeezing me much closer to that armpit than I needed to be.
And so began the never ending day of Fijian. Once we got back I was starving, but determined to be Fijian for the day I was going to wait for them. Well first came the pool, so we decided to play rugby in the shallow end, and even there somehow they find a way to ignore the little un athletic white kid who cannot play rugby to save his life. But in that time I dropped a number of hints towards food, but no one really seemed to consider food as being an option besides it had only been six hours or so between meals. The next bus was scheduled to leave at 1:30. 2:45 supposedly 15 minutes before the game we board and depart.
The next game was against the previous year’s champs the Army team. This was much more entertaining than earlier. Whenever one of the USP team just smoked the Army guys, no kidding, he would stand up and take a swing at our poor little collegiate athlete. Penalties awarded… not a chance. Later this was explained because people are afraid of the Army, because there is a military established government as of right now, but no big worries. Unfortunately we lost again, but it was very close and no one died. Again after the game there was a lot of man bonding moments even after such brutality on the field there was enough sportsmanship to hug it out.





After the game about 4:30 I feel hunger finally occurred to the others, YESSSSS, at a small convenience store we picked up the essentials: 2 loaves of bread, Chow spicy chicken noodles, eggs, rice, and butter. This all eaten at the same time would make a fantastic meal in about 2 hours for the pace back to Appeli’s flat, one of the rugby players place was much slower than adequate for me. I desired just under a sprint, but oh no. Mach -5 we broke the slow barrier. I could have fell on my face and rolled there faster, but I did not get sour for the feeling of hunger nearly left me and my body accepted the inevitable death by starvation. When we got there I sat cross legged on the floor, because that is the Fijian style of dining, at made a puddle of saliva under me as one of the other dinner guests breaded the butter, in other words he used a lot of butter. A stack of two full loaves of bread just sat in front of me, but I needed to wait because it wasn’t time yet. But with just a hint of patience I maintained composure, until dinner was served. Well I ate a loaf of bread, but I was satisfied.
I just sat there in silence as they slowly went along in a conversation in Fijian. There was a point where Mark said “Danny, say something.” And I responded “well if I spoke Fijian.” With that they realized and he concluded “Oh, maybe we should speak English.” After an entire day of this it was finally recognized why I am so silent most of the time. Unfortunately English conversation seems to be a little forced and it really never gets very far.
That night it was earth day and Fiji was having a little carnival deal downtown to count entertain and countdown the one hour of 1,000 cities across the globe shutting off unnecessary lights. Before hand I was so lucky to enjoy seeing the KFC mascot who is a giant chicken, I never knew he existed, local music talent, my favorite, and FREE Nescafe, whooooooo the caffeine blew me away because I haven’t touched much since I’ve been here. The best artist there was a duo, who didn’t sing together, called KC and Milkshake. KC, pure thug, his first song was about couch potatoes “T.V. is going to take over the world, and we’re all going to die.” Those words spoke deeply to me, and who can forget “in the summer you think your all hot… but your gross.” Fortunately there was Meke which always perks me up, but I was told by my entourage that apparently that style of dance wasn’t really traditionally meant for humor, so I don’t know how they felt about me enjoying it the way I did. I guess I knew I would run into this sometime. I always thought that there was going to be someone who didn’t like their culture being exploited for tourist’s entertainment.



The big moment arrived at 8:30 PM and we began the countdown from twenty. I imagined the illuminated city being shut down completely into its natural nightly beauty only having the moon and the lights powered by solar charged generators glowing dimly in the world as we come together attempting to create a better world. 20…2,1 dOooooooo the sound the Death Star makes before it blew up the planet Alderaan, and it was dark. When I opened my eyes I found I had made the noise and all the lights were still on…hhmm? Fortunately the person with the microphone told me because I couldn’t pick it up on my own they shut the lights off on the stage. I guess it’s a start, even though if we never had the gathering that light wouldn’t be on anyways, and they started a paper outline of a 60 on fire. Did you know that if you shut a 100 watt light bulb off for 10 hours a day you can save X kilowatts enough to power a four bedroom house for 5 months? Something like that.
Well we sat there and had some simple English conversation, but I learned some Fijian Poofta, Maca, tooloco, and much more. I won’t tell you what it means, but actually I only know one of them, but if I remember right one of them is right and it has a special meaning. Something I probably shouldn’t call Mr. burly likes to fight Fijian. The real reason we came downtown though was because at 10 the big US vs. Fiji Rugby game was on, and the good ol red white and blue was going to show her colors. Showed one. Red as in the blood spread all over the field as Fiji wiped the Field with our pride. Oh well probably better not to make anyone mad about something they really care about. The thing though during the game I was probably cheering the most. Everyone is so quiet during these games, which hurts me a little, but I try and conform as best I could. And so concluded my big Fijian adventure.
Sunday we went to another Anglican church which was probably the coolest church I’ve ever seen. It was eaten with vines and completely made with rocks. Tiny, and people were standing outside because it was so packed. It was children’s mass so they sang all the children’s sing along church song, which I proudly know everyone created, thanks mom! Most impressive the biggest man in the world goes there, fun thing is that he plays a mean guitar and has the lowest voice ever. The lowest key on a piano has nothing on him. Afterwards we had tea with the congregation and sang happy birthday to one of the kids, such a great community setting.
Tuesday morning. I went out in a fishing boat with Eli an Australearner and Daniel, an Aussie, to the closest swell capable of surfing, and watched as Eli got pummeled and Daniel killed. When it was my turn it was low tide and oh boy could you tell. When I fell off and clung to the board it threw me on the hardest sharpest coral ever. Luckily I wasn’t tossed on my back but sort of gently walked on it, and it still cut my foot. Owweee. What was really lame was when a wave would come and force me to hop up and down on the jagged surface tearing me up every time. Our driver has a pretty cool lifestyle, maybe if I did it once. Nearly at 3 he goes out and swims around with a spear gun and shoots fish. He does this all night until 8 am. Wow. Worst of all after shooting them he puts them on a stringer, but this is a little different than at home, because when fish bleed you get a friendly visitor, Mr. Shark. But no worries he just said they can sense fear, and he’s not afraid, so there’s nothing to worry about. I’m glad that is all the comfort he needs.
Later as I sat eating my fish cassava and brat I bought pre cooked at a little dive am man begins to talk to me and question about my life. After a short conversation he just shoots out “Do you know anyone who produces movies?” “Well no I’m really not from an area that that really happens.” Anyways he has a movie idea, about his life of course, and he guarantees me it is Grammy worthy for sure. Here goes the synopsis. Ahem… There’s a family with three kids. One daughter goes to Australia, one goes to the states, and the youngest attempts to try his luck in the professional boxing arena in New Zealand where he falls in love. “It can be shown in three parts, and it’s a beautiful story.” I suppose that is relative who says that, but he did try boxing and did fall in love. The problem was that both of them were married and it didn’t work out. He asked me what I thought and I wholeheartedly encouraged him. We concluded the conversation with him asking me if I knew anyone who could introduce him to someone who could direct his film “no.” “Then do you know how I would go about doing that.” Hmmm being the expert in producing movies I told him probably to go to LA, but that is only what I’ve seen on tv. He couldn’t express his gratitude and was really excited, but if you ever see that story somewhere just know I started that guy off. Someday the ex boxer turned self employed electrician will someday come to write the next greatest trilogy surpassing Star Wars, not a chance, and the Lord of the Rings, and Indiana Jones, because the 4th never happened. All of this thanks to the great adventurer Danny Dunn the hungry, making dreams come true one good citizen of Fiji at a time
And concludes another week of adventure, next week will probably be a bunch of boring cultural stuff because I’m going on a field trip with a graduate study’s class to the old capital to research early attempts at establishing government so look forward to a whole bunch of dry stuff.
By the way I would like to make a note that some people struggle spelling Fiji, and I would like to just in the most humble way possible point out the error that it is with a J. No names mentioned AAAMomChooo, sorry the room is getting quite dirty.

A Little Fijian

First of all, I have become aware of a perception created by my last blog post that I did not foresee occurring. In my "disappointment" of missing the hurricane I may have portrayed my thoughts as being completely ignorant to the danger I could have been in and insensitive to all of the damage suffered in the northern and eastern islands of Fiji. I was aware of these things, but it did not dawn on me to express the happenings from somewhere I was not. Also in an attempt to entertain not only you, the reader, I also desire to humor myself by drastically exaggerating the true emotions of my experience. I did feel all of these emotions, but not to the full extent of how I described it. I am sorry if anyone misinterpreted my intentions, but in no way was I intentionally making light of the loss Fiji has just been subject to, but only to make light of what I personally went through.



The mindset of another culture is something I have found to be very interesting, but also a concept which one doesn't grasp within the first month of being apart of it. Mostly what my experiences and insight involve is me being able to actually apply real situations with all the experiences that I read of others. Initially, since I already knew everything there was to know about this alternative way of life, so I thought, I believed there wasn't going to be anything I struggled with grasping. On the contrary, The instances I have gone through may not sound like a big shocker, but before I come to the realization that this is the way things are it can be very frustrating and confusing.

Probably one of my favorite conversations I have been involved in recently took place. As I wandered, as I often do, a Fijian, who I did not recognize, began to talk to me. I find that I cannot recognize anyone, but so many people are able to say "Hey Danny," and I would just politely chime in a return completely baffled by who they could have been. I figure many of them are from the Rugby team especially if they happen to be athletic looking. Like usual one of the questions they ask me is if I like to go out downtown. My normal response is usually saying that I don't go out as often as the other Americans, in an attempt to disguise the truth, but yet give the impression I do so not to offend him, because if I did express my true feelings we probably wouldn't talk anymore. Usually I expect to hear the same old reasoning about why he enjoys to go out so much but his was truly unique. He told me many stories explaining situations he had gotten into where most of the time he beat the snot out of another individual. He had so many stories! One involved him in an attempt to escape his pursuer, and the big ugly bruiser behind him gets blindsided by a truck. Not waiting for an instant he jumps on the poor guy and unleashes the beast all over his face. There were also a number of failures, one which left him in the hospital after getting a bottle smashed over his head. This just gave me a little insight on what I don't want to do, piss them off. I feel this happens often possibly no more than anywhere else, but the fact he sought this out actually put me on my guard the rest of the day. Besides fights, we bumped into his friend who could steal anything he could ever need for $10. What a handy friend I thought, but I told him I'm not ever welcoming his friend to hang out. This just seemed so odd to me to brag about to a little white foreigner who the only person he ever hurt and felt good about it was a racket ball to my opponents face. On accident of course, but I smiled for a second.

Next, I have heard of a whole lot of racial tension between the two different major racial groups, Indian and Fijian. I've been told a number of accounts where Fijian thugs will search out Indians and just beat the crud out of them and take there money, why I asked, "because they all have money." Good point and then one Indian asked what "race" was the taxi driver in who's taxi you lost a cell phone. And because he was Fijian we were never going to see the cell phone again. I've never quite seen anything like this coming from super diverse western Wisconsin. The most interesting accounts came from two other students in my human rights class. One being a middle aged Fijian woman came straight forward and said the human rights people were outrageous coming into Fiji and telling them their culture and traditions were not right and needed to be changed because some people did not agree with them. When asked who, she pointed to the group of Indians in the room. Next an Indian in my class explained to me that there were only problems because people were uneducated and were unable to conform to the laws that have been placed by the national government. Many provinces in Fiji have Chiefs that call the shots and most people are loyal to them. If they contradict the law set forth by the national government then the people break the law. He said through education they would be able to see the wrongs they are committing and everything would be more peaceful. I felt he was implying that the Fijians were uneducated, because they are the group that lives under this chiefly system creating all of these problems. Two completely contradictory points of view that I feel will probably need to have a compromise eventually, but it doesn't seem as if either side is currently willing to do so.

Wow if you read that that will most likely be pretty boring. But recent happenings. Colo-i-Suva, Colo means inland, and c's make th sounds in Fijian FYI, the National Park just outside of Suva, is unbelievable. Lets just say time of my life. First I saw a group of parrots. Unbelievable, but probably the most annoying birds ever created. If I needed a name for a group of them it would be a squawble, because it pretty much sums up the noises they make. Also met a new friend who is in the Fijian Military, and they often train in Colo. They use paint balls and during a battle he climbed a tree to hide for whatever reason, but ditched his gun because it was heavy. The other squads officer walks up to the tree he was in and begins peeing. Being completely oblivious to the danger lurking above he set himself up perfectly. Completely silent he jumped down from the tree onto his back in mid pee and apprehended the enemy. Leno is a beast, and he even taught me self defense moves, which usually ended with me bent with my wrist touching my elbow doing the limbo, while he calmly explains where he is applying pressure to immobilize me. I would politely whimper back an understanding sound and he would release, and I would massage only to be placed right back for the next maneuver.




Also there was a rope swing flying above this 10 foot deep natural waterfall pool, which you nearly needed to jump to hang onto. One small slip and its onto the rocks about 15 feet below owwey! Lucky no damage done. Next Waisaloi, or something around those lines, a really neat waterfall portrayed in a Fanta commercial I was told. Turns out you can climb up it, which I did of course if it is possible. Best rock climbing ever. And then to the upper pools for a good back flip off a wall overlooking a pool, which I might add set up for a fantastic picture. We exited the park through an alternative route, because Leno said it was a good route, and it also looked shorter on the map, but it turns out it was the longest walk possible down a dirt road through a village and finally into Suva 8km later. But luckily there was a bread store and I found actually some delicious baked goods I've been searching for. Cream scone and a single serve apple pie with a little mold anyone, delicious. I of course returned the moldy pie, but fortunately was able to enjoy another. Overall the trip was a success, and Leno invited us to his village at some point, but I've heard that so many times I really don't count on it. But he is shipping out to Taveuni to help with the hurricane victims.

Ok, now to speed things up a bit, something I have obviously struggled with in my epic story telling. Concert of hope on Friday the 19th I saw some really hilarious cultural dance called a Maki, and I think it is there version of the chicken dance except consists of a large group of shirtless beefy Fijians sitting cross legged swinging there hands and arms really fast all over the place and every time the beat would get faster and faster. There also was a really old woman there who would snag the mic and say something in Fijian sounding just like a parrot, and everyone laughed hysterically as I awkwardly laughed alone like I knew what was going on. Later they tossed out snacks from the stage and the younger crowed ravaged the front of the stage. Unfortunately for them I'm a champion rebounding machine. So I didn't get any. And Rob Sanders and the Hearts. Best leader of the band ever. He was an old asian man who talked incessantly, but didn't sing only played two little baby green maraca's, but if anyone knew how to play gourd miracas with 3 beads in them it would be him. There were little kid dance offs on stage where they had terribly violent hip gyrations as their dance, and also they did some sort of mock killing in slow motion of each kid, which was pretty gruesome.

When I decided to leave my friend Rubin decided to come with me. He brought his entire entourage with also. I explained that he didn't need me to come with me, but he insisted saying the concert was boring and he was worried about me. Bam! just like that all of my pride left, because come on, I don't need someone to hold my hand and walk me to the bus. After I entered the bus I sat down and his cousin sat right next to me on an empty bus, which I was guessing under instructions from Rubin. And then to make things worse Rubin went back to the concert, which he early told me he didn't like. I can appreciate the dedication, but please don't make me feel less of myself by leaving something you want to be at, and then having your cousin keep an eye on me on the bus ride. Woofta did that bug me.



On Sunday Rubin actually makes up for things by culturing the crap out of me. He invited me out to his place to drink kava and watch the rugby game with his family. Well I had a few shocks of reality, and it turns out his family lives in a two bedroom tin shack in a little village within Suva. It was sort of sad, but when everyone is so nice you really can't feel bad for them I actually start to think why I can't be as friendly. Grog was good, and U.S.A won, but I experienced another cultural aspect that I learned about before I came, which is Fijians are very content to only be around each other even if they aren't doing anything. Well right away after the awkward introductions conceded things got pretty quite, and the reality hit that they really don't talk all that much. Just sit and space out while everyone is around. Whoo, if I knew culture was sitting silently cross legged on a floor with 5 shirtless men I probably would have reconsidered, but this is what I am here for so after I was able to reflect and enjoy the experience. Blank faces with only a few comments made in Fijian when they needed to talk. Even during the Fiji rugby game no one got really all that excited. And also women mainly sat in another room while we drank grog. But yes I must say Rubin you have totally redeemed yourself and I suppose if I need to have a bodyguard forced upon me to be accepted into a village I will do my best to deal with it.

Monday I wake up and grr I'm angry, and I have found that this is one thing I cannot tolerate when it comes to weird pains. My mouth is covered in canker sores and I just get so bitter all day. I think I may have talked back to my professor today. But story goes PL 307 no doubt. Thinking back 2 weeks ago when I went to class at 12:30 and class was halfway over, so I figured in that room at noon. I get there and class seemed a bit more packed than usual and I really didn't recognize anyone. I bust out my notebook and glance at the course reader the girl next to me had and it was something AC 111, whoops this doesn't make any sense. Then the Professor must have seen my countenance and said "are you in the wrong place," as the entire classroom turns to see the butthead who disrupted class. In response I put on the biggest dumbest smile and looked cute saying "must be" and skipped off attempting to play it off, but go figure more problems. Class was supposed to be at 1 in the room I was in, but AC 111 was in there until two. Once I bumped into the class we played musical lecture rooms, and jumped from one to another, and finally kicked out AC ha! now who looks foolish. But one of the professors said "Danny class is at 1 do you understand write that down so you don't forget, do you understand," and I was a bit offended because she talked to me like a little kid, and remember canker sores, so I responded with a surprisingly bad attitude and blatant response of ill intent. The comment I would prefer not to repeat and I really feel bad about it, but hopefully she wasn't paying too much attention, because she was already on a rampage.

Well I ate an entire loaf of bread, no exaggeration, and went for nearly a five mile run if I had to estimate, but probably more like a 5k because metric confuses me. So the story ends with me here, toiling in my angry aloneness while everyone else watches movies, which I disagree with because we've done that too much. Only a little bitter though. Tomorrow is another day and will bring a whole new adventure for me, even if it is just writing a paper :( Darn

Stay in Week

My weekend is difficult to recall for it all meshed together into one great big nothing. I began the adventure of a lifetime, which was going to be like watching the best horror flick through my bedroom window as I cowered in my bed, which I moved across the room away from all the windows, and packed everything I owned into either a bag or placed in my closet. I first heard word of this on Friday when I was told there was a Cyclone warning. I immediately was thrilled. My imagination ran wild with all sorts of grandeur scenes you see in movies. I knew I would glue my face to the window and gaze in fascination as an whole palm tree would be uprooted and tossed into the ocean, as anyone else on Fiji may throw their McDonald's bag into it. I immediately ran home to begin preparations. After packing up all of my possessions into cyclone proof areas in order to protect them when my windows were torn from the pane I began spreading the news to the few who I knew would miss me most, and maybe the ones I could impose the most fear into HAHAHA! (that was my evil laugh) sorry about that Caitlin :(

The messages included: death, power outages, flooding, rabid dogs, anarchy, and of course contaminated water supply, each more worse than the next, but I always finished with I will talk to you when the power is back on. In reality I actually did hear there was a good possibility of losing power for awhile for I heard rumor that when there was a pansy cyclone in December the power did go out for a week or two, and at this time ours was considered a class 3 hurricane, dun dun dun...

So I lied in bed attempting to sleep, but I found that I really struggled from complete anticipation of BOOM... Crash, ahh the windows are gone, and Edgar NOOO as he gets sucks from the living room window, but I knew in order to make this the best possible I needed to be awaken from a deep slumber. So I busted out Deuteronomy and woke with the sun shining through my window. What!?! Now that was disappointing.

Anyways not much to report until later when it actually clouded over and the breeze began. This time I knew it was right, because already the hurricane hit Fiji time, how much later can it be? Next morning same story without the sun though, which was a good sign. So I marched off to church at the Holy Roman Cathedral, which was a really cool church, and it was so packed people were forced to sit by me. I felt so welcome. After hours of room time only creating disappointment the first time I was away from home in a while it finally decides to do something. I walk out of the comfortable stain glasses cathedral to run into sheets of rain and some solid wind. How could this happen especially when I'm in my good sulu. One unsuspecting draft from the left flank and then the people of Fiji are going to see more of me than they needed to.

In my search for a bus under a shop overhang a man decides to chat with me. Sweet someone has interest in what I'm doing here in Suva. Next thing I know I'm in his shop and he keeps saying "I can give you a great price." Darnit how could I be such a knucklehead to be blinded by attention not to see this coming?

The rest of the day consisted of moping from my room to the next watching the palm trees sway as much as it would if I pushed the bottom of it, not very exciting, but 2 am that morning the show was to begin. Since this was the last night I would have power I decided to send another message of peril to a number of people explaining the situation, but this would be the last they heard from me. That night I was thrilled to see a blinking light driving down the street. I could faintly hear the mumble of someone on a loud speaker saying "STAY IN YOUR HOMES. IF YOU ARE FOUND OUTSIDE YOU WILL BE TAKEN" OHH yeah we're on lock down!! This is finally it. Knowing the drill it was easy to fade out.

Silence, the only noise I could hear was the A/C in the background. Duped again. Ahh this was ridiculous, and insult to injury we were on house arrest all day that day. We couldn't move. So I sat. The new prediction was 5 pm that afternoon. the anticipation was killing me. When will I ever see some sort of animal that usually cannot fly go zipping by my window, or at least a tree fall down? Whenever I was near a window and I heard a gust I face planted into it and watched the palm tree, and the wind was back to normal, which was pretty much a breezy day back home. That night I nearly lied to myself that it actually hit, because I needed to tell myself that something was occurring in order to make me feel bad apples (I don't know who reads this so lets keep it G) when I walked from our building to the P house next door.

Unfortunately, it actually did hit when I was walking back and forth, the problem was that I really couldn't tell the difference. There wasn't one crack of thunder the whole time. Class 4 hurricanes, which it ended up being, are weak. The problem was that during Fiji time the Tomas the Hurricane lost focus and trailed off east, fortunately, but yet unfortunately, nearly completely missing Suva.

Tuesday came and the storm pretty much petered out completely. Unfortunately the entire nation of Fiji was still on house arrest, so it was a very very long day. Luckily a number of people have obtained a fine collection of dvd's at the finest outlets in Suva for $2 a piece. I must say the Fantastic Mr. Fox is recommended to everyone out there. Needless to say I don't think there was a single person in our group who seriously considered murdering someone throughout this whole debacle. I should know. I got a volleyball thrown at my face, and there was no play involved, it was pure hatred. It radiated from everyone.

Wednesday rolls around and it rained more than it did all weekend when we were in a hurricane, but luckily I found time to walk the entire Suva City, finding a neat shortcut through the middle, and find another culinary dessert that actually had some of that good ole flavor I've been craving so much. Luckily you you, the reader, I have found myself unable to read any of my fascinating history reading about the socializing habits of the Pacific islanders in the 18th century, so I could literate a tale of when nothing happened.

Marching in March

Now that life is becoming less exciting by just living here I am attempting to pick up and learn the small things that I encounter every day of my life. One big issue is the lack of organization that is occurring throughout my experiences with the Fijian way of life. The mounds of garbage that are deposited on a windy day in every nook and cranny due to the lack of care put forth in cleaning up after themselves, but also the lack of “rubbish” bins found around campus and the city. While walking to and from class I have had more issues having awkward dances with my peers than I am comfortable doing, because often they are a little more intimate than I would prefer them to be, at least they often smile which makes things a little better so I know that being in such an awkward situation isn’t such a big deal. The problem with walking is that I have always walked on the right side of the walkway when passing someone going the other. I thought this was a universally accepted code of conduct that all civilized human beings have figured out, but experience tells me I am very wrong. There seems to be no set or even an idea of what side someone is to pass on. At first I thought well maybe because they drive on the opposite side of the road they walk on the other also. After wriggling though a fair amount of groups of people I figured that theory was wrong also. I have begun to look way ahead of me and alter my path before I am within 30 meters of someone in order to avoid an encounter. Though this may seem like a small issue it can cause a lot of stress especially if you may be in a hurry, which I’ve never seen a local do a day in their life, or if maybe you’re in a bad mood and you don’t feel like looking up and seeing a smiling Fijian in your face trying to dodge around you.
Classes are yet to be resolve, and I doubt I am free from them yet. For on Monday the 8th, beginning our third week of classes I had another miscommunication for my ever so troublesome PL 307 course. The Wednesday before I had class and everything went well. I was on time, I wasn’t lost at all, the current replacement professor was there, and it turns out we will have a new one every week or so because the real Professor obviously doesn’t want to leave the Solomon Islands. During class I was handed a course guide, which contrary to my timetable of classes says that we will have class at 1 on Monday and Wednesday, where my schedule said 12 on Monday. Ok that is an easy fix, so Monday roles around and I was in the library like the angelic student I am, and decided I could be early for class at about 12:30. Of course. I show up and the entire class has already started. How could I have missed this one? I don’t know, but the other students sought out one of the professors who explained the time thing to them, but didn’t want to inform me of anything. Thank you. Class then ended at 1 so I missed half of the class that I have only been to 1 full class previously.
The organizational skills held here are not the only problem that has been a thorn in my side, but now I have experienced the deepest and greatest cultural difference Fiji loves so dearly. One day I didn’t have classes going on so I decided to run a few errands. I was heading down to the lower campus to hand in a sheet that will sign me up to take a class making me PADI certified scuba diver. Gonna be sweet. While I was searching for this elusive office I sought I bumped into one of the many rugby players who recognized me but I couldn’t put a name to him. Turns out his name is Marsh, pronounced Mas, and he was just wandering around waiting for his class to start. Once I found the office and go figure he wasn’t there I hung out with Mas for awhile. In the end he offered me to come with him and visit his house in Suva while he waited for class. Not sure why he would do that because it sounded as if his house was about a 45 minute bus ride and his class was in 2 hours, but I wasn’t going to argue. He ended up paying for my bus ride and he spontaneously bought me a drink from a street vendor downtown.
When we arrived at his house I met his mom Lo and his 2 year old cousin Alex who gave me the expected response by staring at me for the entire time I was there. I sort of just sat on his couch in the living room which consisted of two couches and a bookshelf, but very homely and I felt comfortable. They offered me some food, and even though I know better I can’t pass up free food I just knew I couldn’t eat to my fill because that would have taken forever. But I enjoyed a bowl of split pea soup, which was very good by the way, surprising by how simple it looked. Our table consisted of lying a cloth down on the floor where we sat cross legged and enjoyed the meal. Since he needed to be back for class, or so I thought we left, and when I left they offered me a mango, and I gladly accepted. I wasn’t sure what kind of response they were looking for because I thought they sort of just looked at me with anticipation of seeing me eat and enjoy it. So I bit through the skin and of course it was delicious, but a bit riper than most I’ve eaten before and there were juices all over me. As we were walking away Mas looked at me funny and asked “you eat the peel?” “Why doesn’t everybody?” of course not, but what was I supposed to do. Either way I looked ridiculous holding a mango pit, which is huge, and having mango juice layer my entire right arm. The good news it tasted good.
During this time I began to feel that I’ve seen Mas enough form one afternoon because I was around him for a number of hours without much to talk about, and every time I brought up taking off he would offer me an alternative that would involve me being around him. I should have expected this much because there isn’t a moment in a Fijian’s life where they aren’t surrounded by friends. He ended up asking me to wait for him after class. Semi reluctantly, but yet I knew I should at least for the cultural experiences. Afterwards him and a couple of classmates fed me some sort of fried Indian snack, I don’t remember the names and no one can ever tell me what anything is, but it is good. I have noticed that it is very common for everyone to be snacking on something or another. I believe this to be my frugal skills kicking in but I just wonder how everyone can afford to be constantly buying stuff to eat and drink from venders all of the time. But I do recall that I was told by one of my instructors for the Australearn program that Fijians do not hold a very high value on money or saving. I don’t know why but it is just how they are apparently.
Afterwards Mas exclaimed he had forgotten his shorts and then began another cultural misunderstanding that I will not address specifically to him, but I think I know what went wrong. I of course being very thankful for all that he has given me throughout the day offered to borrow him a pair of my shorts for practice. So I really reluctantly took him to my place, because I am somewhat ashamed of how nice our apartments are compared to how most locals live, and got him a pair of shorts. After practice I never saw him and figured they would be back the next. When that didn’t happen the realization hit me pretty quickly. I didn’t remember this at first, but as I learned about the culture I was told that Fijians are very giving and whenever somebody wants/needs something someone in the community is almost always willing to help them out and give whatever it is they need. I also heard that the concept of borrowing is used much less often than it would back in the states. So it turns out that I am down one pair of athletic shorts with one left, and knowing that I won’t be borrowing anything I may need in the future. I probably could ask for them back, but because I am not ignorant to the cultural differences around me I will be above that and accept the gift I so unknowingly gave.
Monday brought an unusual day for me to celebrate. But it turns out it was International Woman’s day and I broke one of the few rules that was given to me upon arriving here. Don’t join any protests. Well I can’t say this was much of a protest and I feel there must be a better way to be expressing your feelings about certain topics, especially ones as serious as this. We were marching for fairer laws protecting women and safer homes and streets. Sounded pretty much uncontroversial, until we began marching singing “Hey Hey Ho Ho Patriarchy has to go!” I began to question what was being implied. I believe they may be protesting the chiefly system Fiji has traditionally had throughout the villages. This topic really isn’t something I felt I should be protesting because customs and traditions are a whole different story compared to demanding equal rights before the law and protection. I was so lucky to sit next to a middle aged Fijian woman in my class the other day and she actually was appalled human rights activists who are demanding all of these women’s rights when most people who live in villages and are under this style of hierarchy are perfectly content and dedicated to upholding the system though people come in and demand that they are being treated unfairly, when the whole time they couldn’t feel any more differently. Hopefully I will be better informed while taking a human rights course of the situation in Fiji.
Since school has started things seemed to have slowed down as far as fun, crazy, and exciting adventures go, but I created my own super sweet adventure. Friday the 12th of March I was done with school and decided I should go shopping for groceries. While I was down there I felt a little ache in my belly signifying that I was hungry. So being the genius that I am I decided a culinary adventure should unfold. So, unfortunately after I bought 100 kg of food from the market I decided to take a stroll downtown and stop at every restaurant or store that had any delectable looking treats. Unfortunately I have found that most baked goods, even with the abundance of sugar, are rather dull. This trip for the most part concluded my suspicions but I was also surprised to find a number of rare treasures. For example a jamroll, which is pretty much a swiss cake roll except homemade with white cake and a jelly filling yummay!!! But then there are some things that aren’t so good, but with a name like Barfi how could it ever work out. Eventually I felt a little sick because I ate a not so chocolate, chocolate muffin that was colored brown, but really didn’t have any flavor. Until next time though, because there is so much more to eat!!!
On Friday evening I went to a Christian Fellowship on campus… it was ok. Singing songs I didn’t know and having a sermon spoken in a lot of Fijian, but the message was very convicting which is always a good thing to hear. I actually hurt when he was speaking because I felt as though he were talking to me. I would cringe in my seat and I think he was looking at me a lot being the only white person there, which is always an adventure in its self.
Saturday the 13th brought oh such a special day. We were bored, sort of, and I decided we needed something to do, so with a little quick thinking and some hand paints I created a jimmy rigged bocce ball set. Everything was going well besides the fact I was getting pummeled. I think I lost 2 to 10 in the first game, but still enjoyable. But we were up on a side hill and after we tossed the balls, and I missed horribly I was trotting down after towards them and POW. We have clothes lines outside our place and they are on a swivel from the middle with 4 prongs sticking out. Usually I can walk under them, and that is why being short is awesome, but not when I’m galloping down a hill. Anyways I have a pretty good cut on my forehead and a slight headache but that wasn’t going to stop me from more adventure of course.
Bloody and bruised I looked at my nemesis the fiend palm tree with its spherical nuts of delicious glory just hanging up there waiting for me to snag one. Using the inner thigh muscles in my groin region I squeezed the tree as if I were trying to ride it like a bull and it is trying to run away. Up I went 100 200 meters, or so I thought but it is actually the smallest one in our backyard and I was exhausted. 20 meters for real though. Once I arrived at the top I removed a few dead leaves and found there was absolutely no way to reach them. Through process of improvisation I pleaded for an onlooker to toss me up a machete in order to hack at one. Reluctantly she approached slowly hesitating to toss it up and possibly damage me. Meanwhile my vise of thigh muscle began to fail and notch by notch I was sliding down. Third toss made it up to me, but by then the Bob Villa unfaultable vice had lost its use so I slowly slid down the tree accepting defeat until the next day. My arms are scraped up pretty good, and I’ve been walking like a cowboy ever since because muscles in places they aren’t supposed to be felt as though they have swollen beyond comprehension and normal comfort. Luckily the onlookers had snagged a few the day before with a stick, and I got to enjoy some anyways.
That is the end of my adventures for the week but as of right now I am actually sitting in wait for the strongest hurricane, which it just got upgraded to be, in Fijian recorded history is going to land. Oh baby!!! I cannot wait. Hopefully our brick apartments have been built strongly enough to withstand gale force winds never known to the country before. Don’t worry we have plenty of water. But last time they had a pansy little cyclone back in December power was on the fritz for 2 whole weeks or so. Maybe won’t hear from me for awhile, but have no fear I know how to take care of myself. Shower in the wind and rain as long as coconuts aren’t flying through the air, and will kill me. But it is pretty exciting, because I’m going to be able to enjoy this for the first time ever. WHOO HOO going to be a great ride!! Wish me luck.
Also there has been complaints of the lack of comment allowances, and guess what? I’ve fixed it so shower me with all of your wonderful questions, comments, insults, or concerns. Have a fantastic Hurricaneless week.

Oh No!!! Board Burn

What on earth could possibly give me a worse burn than the sun? This is a very serious question because the sun has been beating me to a red painful pulp ever since I've been here. The worst burn I have ever had as of now happened due to my first, and probably last experience with boogy boarding.

On this most superb of Saturdays the Australearners had a plan to leave at 7 am, which is a feat for most in the group on any day and I'm guessing because most of them went out the night before until 5:30am didn't really help their spunk during preparation for departure. My roommate Edgar's response in the morning was not much more than a muffled grunt, he never even made it out of his street clothes. And so we were off! Jumping from bus to bus and entering a coach bus similar to the ones in the states. This bus ride was epic because at every significant town on the way there we would stop, have a man with a box full of food and drinks yell at us through the window, allow people to enter and exit the bus and be off. Since it is Fiji time these stops were much less than efficient adding some time to the already three hour trip. We arrived in Sigatoka looking at a sea of eager faces all whom desire to sell us their fresh produce at the market, because it is better than the mango's on the other adjacent table owned by her neighdor probably picking from the same plants (I say plants because I guess I don't know what a mango grows on, and since I was so surprised that a pineapple isn't a tree I can't jump to conclusions). I bought a lovely baked good called a jelly roll from a typical looking restaurant with all of its food in heater pans on the other side of glass. I bought this because the presentation reminded me of a swiss cake roll by little Debby except it was pink. Come to learn Little Debby cannot be beaten, as I should know by now the baking is much less sweet and very dry in comparison to the succulent baked goods of home, and the cream filling is only there for show being nothing more than thick air to take up space and look good.

We hopped the town bus which drove us out into the middle of nowhere at a shack which was to be our home for the night. Very nice place for $12 a night. They rented us out surfboards and boogey boards and we set out for the ocean over the only sand dunes of Fiji. The dunes were pretty impressive being much taller than I imagined, but the sand was also much hotter than I imagined. Rumor has it that you can boogey board down these. Maybe my form wasn't right, but I decided to use a good old fashion head first approach I have used with sleds many times. I dove onto the ground at a speed I figured necessary to give me the momentum to slide down, and when I landed the board stuck and I face planted flipping directly over onto my back covering me with scalding hot sand. The first epic failure of the day.

From afar the waves looked wonderfully serene and majestic as they crashed into the shore, but once we got down there I knew I was in for a good time. These were no happy three foot waves that are synchronized cresting at the same time and splashing onto shore, but instead they were 10 ft (probably an exaggeration) waves of death crashing into shore from every which angle mutilating everything in there path. So I paddled out on a boogey board. I got 20 feet from shore busting through all sorts of madness and was Perfect Stormed, as in flipped head over heals and I drifted to shore like a piece of driftwood. After a number of tries and all the energy I had I made it out a distance that was possibly capable of producing a wave which had not already become a uncontrollable beast. I tried to jump a number of them only to float right over them. And then it came. This was no ordinary beast of the ocean, but instead as it crept closer I knew there was trouble. It actually curled into one of the tubular ones you see on tv that the surfers look really awesome riding it. That imaged crossed my mind until it hit my and I clung to my board for dear life I swear I was laundry machining for 30 seconds. In my inexperience I saw that Aaron and Eli with the surfboards attached the sting to their ankle, so I followed suit trying not to look dumb and the entire time it seemed too short to get to my ankle. Anyways your supposed to attach it to your wrist and because I had such a short string when my arms extended when holding on for dear life it became unattached from my ankle. Even in such a dire situation I was able to keep my head clear and I knew that it was hang on or not have anymore fun. When I resurfaced my death grip never loosened until I made it to shore, punishing wave after punishing wave. On shore I was able to assess the damage and all I discovered was that my chest burned very badly. Another amateur mistake no doubt. As I wiggled and flailed my way into near death the boogey board decided to tear slowly away at my skin leaving me with a beautiful rash of sorts all over my upper stomach. The worst wasn't even my stomach, I could bear that pain, but there were two little appendages of the male body so often forgotten because I don't think they serve a purpose except pain when uncared for. My NIPPLES!!! They were swollen red and throbbing with pain, so there was a shirt on the rest of the day to stop more possible damage from occurring.

Seeking a better venue for beginners we traveled down the beach to the river mouth. I must say I was proud of the idea but I used my hammock, since there were no trees for shade or hanging, as a tent by staking the two corners down and holding one longways side up with a stick and let the wind do the rest. Pretty impressive if I do say so myself. But more important matters were afoot, because I was yet to conquer a wave. This time my weapon of choice was the board. Thanks to the river current it was easy to travel the 100 unnecessary meters out from shore so we attacked from the flank. All that ran through my head was that I read in my "Lonely Planet: Fiji" is that in 2006 a man was bit in the hand by a shark, so I imagined being propelled from the water by a great white since if I had to go it better be a memorable death for everyone who saw it. We made it to the actual waves and it was the same old story I would float over a wave or else be pummeled by its fury. And then a miracle occurred. As a splashed in an attempt to bring up my speed on my board the wave all of a sudden grabbed me and propelled me to mind blowing speeds. Not knowing what was happening I screamed in fear as I flew atop of this wave never moving from my stomach. Since I didn't move the wave became a white cap and the board wiggled all around. This heavenly moment lasted for probably 10 seconds and then I so ceremoniously pressed too hard on my left hand and went into the normal routine of clinging to the board for dear life. I resurfaced with a new sense of pride and accomplishment because absolutely no one had any idea of what happened, but in my own mind I was reborn a new man. This probably occurred one more time, but I got scared after awhile. Probably because Edgar decided to try in his hung over state and ended up losing his board completely and was swimming around in the waves for like five minutes. Being the responsible group we were Eli jumped in with a board to go help as I swashed around unable to leave the shore. When Eli made it out to him Edgar was flailing wildly and he was given this little bit of advice from Eli "You can stand up it isn't very deep." Giving such a horrifying incident a light hearted ending. Looking back on the whole ordeal I suppose most of us probably were lucky nothing happened, especially me being the Olympic trained swimmer I am things could have gone a lot worse. But what is the fun of thinking things through? There would be so much less spontaneity we would simple sit in our homes not going anywhere because there is a chance of someone dying. Similar to me and my sunburn. Maybe I should stay out of the sun for awhile... ha no way and now I am again a finely boiled lobster only looking forward to peeling my outer shell revealing a fresh new canvas for the sun to violently cover with its signature color, red.

The next day, Sunday, only brought more adventures. Luckily I ate everyone's meal at a restaurant we went to the night before, because it was too large for everyone else, so I kicked into garbage disposal mode and ate my meal 4 other plates full of leftovers, nearly a full roti, and a cupcake to wash it down. Needless to say I wasn't very hungry the next morning. We then journeyed to the finest beach in all of the mainland Viti Levu called Natadola beach. Much more picturesque than the day before the beach was purely white sand all alone an inner ring of the bay. The waves were synced and crashed onto shore with a perfect crash. Today brought new adventures, which surprised me how well it worked and how awesome it was. Body boarding cheapest way to enjoy yourself with a wave is easy and exciting. The goal is to pretty much surf but without a board. I would get in up to where I could barely touch with my feet, and then when one would come through that was peaking right before it got to me I would swim like there's no tomorrow and I would be hoisted up and carried. During this time I would usually scream with excitement and kick and flail, because it seemed right at the time. Of course all good things come to an end and the normal fashion for me involved falling face first into my carrier wave and tossed around until I drifted onto shore like a cardboard box. One of the neatest feelings is being jostled around by a wave because if you relax it tosses and turns you and bends your body in all sorts of ways. I feel sort of like jello because how it actually sends a wave down my body as it passes through. If no one has ever experienced it I highly recommend along with many hours of body boarding. Unfortunately living in paradise has its downfalls. Though I applied spf 50 there seemed to be a number of spots that were not quite as covered as I needed so I continued the baking process and now I truly am welldunn. If there is one positive thing my Neanderthal forehead has created the goggle effect that I know Caitlin has always enjoyed on my face.

Now to travel back in time to where the burns began. On Friday there was a very large Rugby tournament beginning at the TFL national stadium which I went to enjoy. Seeing all of the destruction of course perked me right up, but unfortunately I found I was the only one and all of the other people didn't seem to happy to be there. One it was devastatingly hot and sunny that day of course all of the avid game watchers found shelter, but there we were in our pale skin glory enjoying the game smack dab in the middle of a sun facing hill. The games were intended to pick up, but of course we had better places to be like the student bar for happy hour :(. Stupidly I did not return probably when the matches would have been exciting, but I will enjoy a solid match another day.

This weekend breathed new life into me. Preparing me for another long week of school. Hopefully I will finally make it to all of my classes for the first week and so will my professors, who decided not to show up during my one hour library guided research time for Human Rights. Oh well, of course its Fiji time!

Bigger, Faster, Stronger, Fijian

Guess what? I just got to enjoy my first taste of touch Rugby, and let me tell you it was about the same as playing frogger except getting run over by the first line of cars every time because you just don't understand how to do it. Not only was I absolutely oblivious to any rugby strategy I was the slowest kid out there besides the other Americans who all had comparative speeds to my own. I know why they invited Eli in the first place. So he could bring the rest of his slow American friends and they can run around us and make us feel pathetic. At one time a guy actually let me tag him and then he gave a "OH NO you got me" said in Fijian and then everyone laughed. I wasn't a fan of there sportsmanship at certain moments. Even if I did manage to stick with all of the juking once I got close they would toss it over my head to the guy on the other side of me and run right around. Once and a million I would be able to contain that guy and then they would toss it behind me and run around again where I would proceed to fall over. Best time ever. I'm bringing this sport home of course so prepare yourself for some pain.

Besides extracurricular activities school is on its way for the second week. And if anyone remembers the wonderful time I had last week figuring out my class this week definitely trumps that. On my schedule I expected to have class at 12 pm in the non existent room of 014b. Being a good student I showed up about a half an hour early. Time flies and the class next door begins and I am completely alone. Figuring there must have been a problem with the professor who happens to still be trapped in the Solomon Islands at this point I went to the office of the department. Of course they were completely baffled because I was scheduled to have class from 12-2. They told me for the time being another Professor would take the place of the one who is missing, and they tried to contact her, but couldn't. Finally they figured it out and took me to the room with that professor and the class had already started of course. I made sure that the person who guided me there knew for certain this was the correct class and she was positive. Class ended at 1, which I thought odd, and also noticed a fellow Australearner was in the class, another odd occurrence. Before I left I was told we would meet later that day at 4 pm. I asked because it wasn't on my schedule but figured because it had been wrong before it probably is so again.

I returned home for 3 hours and came back to class. I sat by the fellow Australearner and she said "I'm really surprised I didn't know you had PL 200." Wait... 200 I thought this was 307? So I went up to the Professor and asked why I was in 200 right now and what happened to 307. "Class was at 1-2 and you weren't there." Wow. So what happened was I was under the impression that the class I was in at 12-1 was my PL 307 and when she dismissed I didn't even think of asking specifically what course I was in. So when I left my real class with the same Professor I just sat through the wrong class with started, and I completely jumped right over it with the wrong classes. Fantastic! Another Monday schedule completely wasted due to misunderstandings and poor organizational skills of the USP?

What did I learn? Being organized not only benefits you but it is also considerate to other people because they won't get caught up in the crap you don't straighten out? Do not get frustrated over things that you cannot control for example mistakes made by other people. Also "Fiji Time" is a lame excuse for people not being on time because they have no idea what they are supposed to be doing. Please take these ideas to heart so I don't have to deal with this anywhere else. Thank you.