Short update after a long break

Bloody Brits

I would like all of you to know that Fiji isn’t just paradise and relaxation, there is stress involved. Like you read in the last blog entry Caitlin and I went on a lovely cruise in the Mamanuca Islands, and how inconvenient that the American’s decide the next weekend would be the best time to actually go back where I just was. Aaaahh how frustrating and ridiculous, putting me in such a pickle! Do I want to spend a weekend on a tropical island surrounded by reefs or sit in my bedroom for a weekend? I went of course, so before I continue I would like you all to know the weekend was fantastic.
First though there was a birthday party for Erika the Torontonian. It all started off well because I was fed and I think that will probably is the single easiest way to make me happy. Nothing really outrageous happened to tell you the truth at least that I normally have to tell, but I guess Erika was sent to bed by 9:30, so congrats on the birthday. Out I really couldn’t get the groove dancing so I sat. I talked to a group of locals who were with my gay roommate from Lautoka. The only memorable thing was that one’s name was Jemimah like the pancakes I said. Of course I decided to implement my 8-12 plan, and it was very successful. I couldn’t say that much for my colleagues.
I feel our crew can probably pick a better time to party all night. Turns out most of them didn’t even go to bed before the 6 am bus arrival. Of course due to drunken sleepiness we didn’t leave until 6:30, but Fiji time makes it ok. A number of times I popped my head into Edgar’s room and yell at him. “Edgar!?!?! GET UP!!” He would sit up and immediately close his eyes and drop back down. “HEYH Don’t go laying back down we got stuff to do now get up!” Eventually after 2-3 visits and a whole bunch of grumbling he was up and perky as can be.
The mini bus ride was less than desirable, because we were split and ours had a few errands to run up in the mountains of Suva Fiji. We picked up some guy who was traveling all the way to Nadi to sell about 100 brooms, and I think he was drunk which made it kind of awkward to see him stumbling around the bus. We arrived and sat in the sun for about 45 minutes because the guy who was supposed to transfer us to our special boat transfer area didn’t want to be there in the 10 minutes that he said he would be. Once he did show up it was just a guy in normal attire, and he decided to ask for the full payment before anything happened. We gave him the money a little skeptically, and when he didn’t have a van or anything, and was just walking around looking lost created a few suspicions. He said he would follow us in a taxi, but luckily our group wasn’t having any of that, and made sure someone was with him at all times so we didn’t get screwed. Well our distrust and efforts to protect our investment were all in vain because he turned out to be legit.
Once we got to the beach our guy was getting yelled at by an officer and another random guy. They were speaking in Fijian, go figure, but I did hear “you lied” and “don’t do this again. I sort of pieced things together after seeing what we were doing, which was boarding two 18 ft fishing boats to drive a bunch of wanna be tourists to an island. I felt like Cuban immigrants attempting to escape into Florida crowded on a tiny little boat with the police are after us. After a grueling 45 bumpy minute teeny boat ride we arrived at our destination of Mana Island.
The island and lodge was superb, but the only problem was our host Bosko swore an excessive amount, almost to the point of being awkward. He was so generous as to give us the go ahead to walk down to the 5 star resort which is on the beach and use their facilities, because they don’t like it when a backpacker does that. I took advantage of this figuring a 5 star would have at least real toilet seat, but just my luck it was plastic. The accommodations at the backpackers weren’t anything special with 8 beds and a bathroom and shower the latter being one I really didn’t use the whole weekend, sweet smells of my manly odors giving a backpackers the proper aroma of traveler.
The first evening was semi uninteresting. All of our group crashed early and the foreigners were all grouped up nice and tight leaving me out. Luckily I got to talk to some Frenchies, and they told someone else I sound like the American’s in the movies. In your face everyone who said I have a silly accent and laughed at me when I say root and roof similar to rut and ruf. The next early rise morning was breakfast, and then a quick or should I say painfully slow and painfully as in ouch my bare feet hurt when walking over dry dead thick stalks of weeds. We went up to the top of some dinky little hill that was the tallest on the island, but yet wasn’t very big. We circumnavigated the entire island and did a little freelance rock climbing, which I got a little excited about doing and while Eli and I were descending I sort of was moving too fast and kicked a loose rock, which sort of fell and smoked his ankle. Luckily the damage was minimal. Besides dangerously painful adventures we also were able to search the ruins of the Survivor Fiji set. This was actually really stupid because there were sand burs everywhere and if you saw the island it sort of just really makes you question how much surviving they actually had to do. Seriously there was 30 ft of uninhabited island, so great job survivors you really outdid yourselves this time.
Later that day I found myself in a sticky situation. I was looking at a puppy with Claire in the settlement behind our dorm, and was instantly surrounded by kids. A number of them had candy either in their hands or all over their face. One bold young male wearing about 3 layers of clothing and the outer one being a plaid dress came up and started pulling on my hands. So I attempted to play by fake dropping him. Since that didn’t seem like enough fun I simply began to shake him just like everyone has been taught not to, but luckily it was only his arms. At first he was confused, but once I started to make the crazy “agagagagaga” noise you make when going over a bump in a car he began to mimic me and laugh hysterically. Next thing I now another kid pushed him out of the way saying “ME!” and so I shook him and then another shove and a new customer. And so we danced until my arms were completely numb from the wiggles luckily Claire picked up a number of customers. When I stood up to leave they all sort of stood around me and looked hungry for more. So I did what I knew I could outdo them at; I ran. I always enjoy a good old little unathletic child chase, because if there was ever a moment when I felt as if I had moves, and everyone knows that isn’t true, this is the only time I do. Ducking and dodging for a while I thought I bid farewell but the followed me down to the beach where they actually continued the chase. At the point of exhaustion it was all over for me. I thought I could handle all 5 of them, but you add up 40 pounders they begin to have a little weight behind them. They hit me from all angles in the knees shins ankles hip, but I was an unstoppable beast until one of the kids got clever and kicked out the back of my knee and it was all downhill from there. Dog pile after dog pile I was beaten by 5 little island children out for blood. The worst part was the sand burn from them trying to jump on my shoulders and slipping off. Everything was ok until they started chucking sand and then I dumped them on the hammockers to rain all over their relaxation.



Of course me being awesome and 5 years old on the inside I wanted to be buried. Well, as I was digging my awesome hole, Fiji got to me again. The inability to properly dispose of garbage strikes with the swiftness of a ferocious Cheetah. All of a sudden slice goes my finger and I look down to see a large chunk of glass 1 foot below the surface. And then began the war on garbage. I even had to pay for a crummy band aid because the incompetence with garbage ruined my dig. Luckily I was able to be created into the beautiful mermaid I always wanted to be. We buried Claire next and unfortunately a young Fijian girl said she could make something erect in the middle of Claire’s body and made a gesture I don’t think anyone should really make in the same sequence of talking about such things, and she was probably 8. Ewwww, whoever told her that, I know I don’t like them.
Later that evening there was a birthday party for one of the backpackers and I intended to join. Being properly dressed in my most formal of jean shorts and ninja turtles shirt I added on the super awesome moustache, which was the theme of the party, and being such a tough guy I am, I rocked none other than the handlebars. First activity planned for the evening was a fun Fijian quiz, which was meant for newbs to the Fiji Islands, which I would have probably gotten none wrong, but apparently someone who has been there for 10 days on one tiny island can tell me all about the language. Bula Vinaka, yes I understand by themselves it is hello and thank you, but no one uses those two phrases next to each other. Together it magically transforms into the Welcome form, believe it… or not.
Luckily everyone was bored so I could be the perkiest one at the party at the moment living it up, but everyone else’s mind was elsewhere. I discovered where when the cooler filled with their ordered mixed drink arrived, and then they started to be unexcited and drink great. Well I was still enjoying myself making new friends until the most disturbing and unexpected thing happened. I would like to say that there may are limits to the world, and to what sort of things people want to read. What I am going to describe is exactly what I saw and how I interpreted the situation. If you do not wish to read an experience which not only scared me for life, but also turned me racist against British men in the age group from 19-23. Skip to “after departure.”
We were about to play a game that I never heard of called pass the parcel when a very funny individual yelled “Harry has to play naked because its his birthday” Oh how funny I thought, but Harry won’t, and he was naked just like that wiggling his member back and forth to add a little life to the situation. I couldn’t say that was why I was there, but I figured it would be done soon. Oh how wrong I was, twas only the beginning. Soon after his friend showed up and noticed that he wasn’t naked and decided to join in the good fun doing the hip swing right along with his good good friend. Apparently they were too good of friends because the latter to show up decided it was a great idea to grab Harry’s hips and begin a good hump from behind. I looked around at all of the people as I made gasps and terrified faces of utter disturbance, and everyone seemed almost neutral about the whole ordeal. Well great news, Harry knows how not to be taken advantage of and decided he wanted in on the fun. So he turned to his friend and in this moment I knew something was awful because they began to giggle like little school girls. They grabbed their boy parts and began to slap them together. I was back to the dorms instantly. The next day no one mentioned it, and everyone held strong, apparently I was told it is a common party practice in Britain. Later that night rumor has it things moved to the face and they made out. If only American’s knew how to enjoy a party, because there are just so many fun opportunities out there that we can do with our goods we would be foolish not to take full advantage of it.
After Departure. Well I really didn’t want to start it that way, but so people could skip the horrific tale. Good news, I bumped into a rogue group of Yanks who knew better than to go to the party and were pretty happy they didn’t after my detailed report. We headed to the other side of the island to make a bonfire and enjoy our time away from the British. Unfortunately we weren’t so lucky. There was a bonfire opposite ours on the beach, which was populated by a group of those dirty Red Coats. Well we were playing with the fire like all good American boys and girls do, and they yelled over “stupid yanks starting themselves on fire.” Being a little caught off guard we just sort of ignored it. Though we were burning ourselves on occasion they don’t have any reason to be yelling at us. Childlike fun ensued where I found an awesome stick that looked like a battle ax, so I swung that around for nearly a half hour, but then the plan was born. We so systematically built a large TP over the fire about 5 feet high so it wouldn’t burn. Then we collected a whole bunch of palm branches and distributed them equally in 5 piles around the TP. Synchronized as the swimming teams we placed the branches on and waited. Soon after KABOOM the entire island was illuminated by our enormous fire. We danced around hooting and hollering like the cannibal tribes of Fiji may have back in the day, it was such a triumphant moment.


Well, the evening was spectacular, but the British were really upset with us and they wanted to let us know. They knew that the one thing that would set us off is to unexpectedly attack our government’s international policy and some domestic issues while they are at it. The tough guys were leaving the beach and ever so cleverly yell over “get out of Iraq, and stop shooting each other!” NOOOOO how could anyone disagree with the beliefs I hold so near and dear to my heart, and say such a thing. Great job guys you cut me deep I ‘m going back and am writing a letter to my representative immediately saying that we need, with all emphasis possible on need, to stop shooting us, the British said so. And that pretty much concludes my decision to dislike the British. We won the war get over it.
Unfortunately the weekend needed to come to a close sooner or later. Can’t say I made any friends, but the ones I had seemed to do well enough. Luckily our little fishing boats weren’t apprehended by the Fiji domestic coast guard on our return trip. What a lovely day to return back to school . Fortunately there was still fun to be had.
We went to a certain little restaurant for a Australearn dinner and reflection night with the ladies of the international students office, and had a buffet style meal. I only ate until I was full, and I didn’t feel like bursting, and fortunately since I didn’t eat everything they sent it home with me anyways. HOORAY more free food, but way too much.
The next night we had a potluck where I cooked cow heart. I didn’t tell anyone what it was until everyone ate it, and then asked them BAHAHA (evilly). Fortunately people weren’t upset just a bit surprised how good it was, as was I. Another lovely time in the Fijian adventures of the little mister sees too much. Thank you British

Feel's like Home

The loveliest weekend to date began with me departing Suva at 7 am with a backpack full of snacks, and a bouquet of tropical flowers all aimed at making the weeklong stay of my favorite person in the world the best possible. The bus ride included me reading a page out of a book and gluing my face to the window and then my Fiji map to see my location on Viti Levu and how much longer until Nadi International Airport. After 4 hours of lovely overheated bus seat I was well prepared to welcome Caitlin to her Island adventure, in two hours from my arrival. I meandered around the arrival area and looked at all the fantastic touring options available to me, my favorite one being the $600,000 villas on Denarau with a slogan like cutting the Fiji out of Fiji Islands as best it can, how can you resist.
Well in my two hours wait I created a name sign in order for her to recognize me in my new and Fijianized form, I was wearing a sulu of course, and the formal one so that might throw her off. There was something lingering on my mind that she brought up, and I couldn’t decide if I would participate also or not. She said something about crying, and I decided at one time in order for her not to feel odd I would join her in an emotional reunion after a 4 month separation. I knew the time was coming near when everyone bunched around the arrival door. I was attempting to look good by leaning against something and almost knocked over a pay as you go internet console. Finally someone walks around the corner and she made some sort of goofy gesture I think signaling recognition and finally I notice Ohh! It’s Caitlin. I was looking for my beloved big poof of hair maybe sparkles and fireworks in slow motion, but nope sort of anticlimactic until the emotions set in, and bam things got sloppy. Well I was a bit choked up and excited, to the point I didn’t even hold my name sign up, which was intended to be upside down and funny. I really didn’t say anything to her for the first 5 minutes or so, and of course the whole magical cliché explosion of excitement in tears was a little off, because the thing is that is a 2 person party and when Caitlin just gives me a little smirk and saying happy to see me? I just sort of cried more in defeat. All in all, besides me completely losing my composure, the reunion was very proper, and loving, but next time as always a little more outward joy from Caitlin would really help my self esteem. Also questions like “what happened to this side ab you were so proudly proclaiming the existence of?” really hurts the body image, which arose later in our escapades.
Many things also came as complete failures. The beautiful flowers I purchased and wanted to blow her mind with the rich florescent colors of Viti Levu, but it turns out that the flowers happen to reside in Venezuela. While driving by a village turns out they resemble a Venezuelan village, and after awhile my random, not very exciting, facts about Fiji began to become a pain, literally, I was asked not to talk too much because her neck got sore from looking to the right. I was very compliant and was quiet, for about 2 minutes. But I guess her request was reasonable being on an airplane for 18 hours, but thankfully she was very reasonable with tolerating my excessive chatter.
Rest and relaxation pretty much sums up the week with Caitlin mixed with the best entertainment, and luckily food, Fiji has to offer. The best food obviously came from the kitchen of Danny Dunn, described by my guest as “almost curry.” From then we moved to the mixed reviews of barfi and the magical world of Suva’s vegetable market. Overall all of my preparations were completely wasted, I bought way too much delicious meats, cow heart yummy, and fruit avocado, which nobody likes, but that doesn’t matter, what matters is that personally I ate way too much and felt good doing it and Caitlin didn’t kill me from poor quality of food or lack of.
I did attempt at one time to kill the joy of the Fiji trip by not explaining the ruggedness of a jungle hike up to the peak of Mt. Korobaba. Did she enjoy herself? That’s probably debatable. I think how it went was one of those things that one hates until looking back on all the magnificent scenery, and of course super special bonding time with a significant other one may find in moments covered in spider webs, mud and running from giant millipedes. I don’t want to brag but I did hike it barefoot again, not a big deal, but just thought you may enjoy that factoid.
Wednesday we departed for Mango Bay, and this resort, which is quintessential Fiji, we were definitely not Danny styling anything. Initially I intended on constant activity with no time between snorkeling and kayaking or maybe even coconut bowling, which mango bay is known for. After the first bit of disappointment of not moving I found myself sleeping under a palm tree on the beach, and believe it or not enjoying it very much. Caitlin should probably enjoy this blessing because on any normal occasion she would have gotten earful of childish Danny “Lets go Play!!!” but for some reason the mixture of Fiji time and Caitlin time engulfed my whole and I let it happen. Realizing and accepting the fact Fiji has finally taken over my body and way of life was terrible but yet very nice at the same time, so thank you Caitlin for possessing me with fear of angering you to realize the sheer ecstasy one may enjoy when indulging in Fiji time, I would like to add this should be enjoyed in moderation. We did get a whole ton of time snorkeling, and a little beach wandering, which on Danny time would have killed us both. Evenings included some sort of delicious fish meal, and then to top it all off we had the ever so manly Mudslide alcoholic beverage which seemed to me just a good ole’ chocolate milkshake with a kick.
Evenings were difficult with our fellow Mango Bayers romping around drunk all evening. Caitlin was so lucky to overhear one Aussie accompany his mate to the Bure only leading him to a very unacceptable place to puke only response to be “BLOODY MURDER NOOOOO!” ha serves him right for keeping innocent sleepers awake.
After spending many hours observing the magnificently blue star fish it was time to depart to our next vacation destination. Of course we were able to enjoy a 3 hour bus ride beforehand which sets up the mood for adventure, but we did go shopping upon arrival. During check in at the hotel we were told a number of horror stories by the manager of the Sunvies Motel and Hostel of people being drugged at the local bar and pretty much said just stay inside, and with a room including air conditioning we weren’t going to argue. Also I loved the unusually cleanliness of the hotel, the only problem was the world’s fastest and largest spider attacking Caitlin in the bathroom. Luckily all that is man, Danny Dunn, has a solid sole on his sandal and an iron will to protect the innocent. After 5 misses with the heel of doom and 3 girly shrieks as it scurried a full lap around the bathroom I left victoriously leaving only a guts, death, and justice behind.
The next day we were up at 7 heading to the Mercure resort to catch a ride to the magnificent South Sea Cruises. Luckily the hotel was about 2 blocks away. The first thing notable upon arrival was actually diverse group of people who were partaking in the epic adventure. The Asian man with a Miller High life muscle shirt was quite a treat to see, because no matter how far you are there’s Wisconsin still right with you. The Catamaran, which is a ship with two hulls if you were curious, zipped us past all of the resort islands where there is a sand beach all the way around, a interior of a few palm trees, and a resort. Not something I was ever too interested in because they are all loaded with English gap year tourists doing the same trip around the world Australia, Thialand, Fiji, and America, and after awhile they really aren’t that fun, but more to come about them later. Arriving at Mana Island we were transferred to our beautiful boat called the Seaspray, which rocks the ocean with its massive sails. Suddenly a low deep rumble from under the boat began and we were moving. This created a little suspicion in the whole necessity of the sails, after about 5 minutes they hoisted sails, and I noticed that the sails were perfectly parallel with the entire boat, and I’m guessing in that position it really wouldn’t catch the most wind, so we were on the most novelty sailboat in the world with sails completely incapable of propelling us anywhere but a slight rock from a good gust.


Our first stop was at the ever so popular Madriki Island, which is famous for the Tom Hanks film Cast Away. Unfortunately we were not able to meet Wilson, but we got by with a little snorkeling. Unfortunately I can’t say snorkeling was much of a bonding moment, because I think beautiful fish and coral give Caitlin a little ADD, no offence. I would try and experience this with her, but as we were going I would see something, point, and look back only to see she had veered off and was gazing at a parrot fish or something. I would attempt to wait it off but the trance of the colorful stripes must have taken Caitlin to a place untouchable by the attempts by me to share these special moments with each other, so I moved on…alone . Well worse things have happened, because it was some really sweet coral, and I did see a black as pitch beche de mer, sea cucumbers to the layperson, with black spikes jutting out all over its body. Best of all it pooped, and after a glance back I learned the entirety of its life consists of pooping, because it the 2 feet it moved all day the entire thing was littered with little gray poop.
After an adequate amount of time snorkeling, we decided to search the island and unfortunately it was time to leave. I really didn’t think we had enough time on the island, but lunch was waiting on the boat, and I wasn’t going to be late for that, and since it was part of our cruise I figured I should probably attempt to eat everything, at least without feeling sick.



At the next island it was a little disappointing, but for some reason the guys who perform the sevusevu every day at the same time for this tour weren’t there, go figure, Fiji timed again. This was sort of disappointing, but in order to get them back I decided to eat about 4 muffins and some raisin bread before we got off, also I notice there was a lot of beer and pop left, so in order not to let it go to waste I decided to throw a few in my bag, just doing my duty of not being wasteful, no need to write words of praise about my good deeds I already know.
Another night back to Martintar, and we decided to eat at a Thai restaurant where I bought an Indian dish like a moron, but that is ok. What angered me the most was they wouldn’t give me free water. They required me to buy a bottle of Fiji water, which is outrageous, so I enjoyed a nice fruity mango yogurt drink that came in a manly martini glass and I know Caitlin could almost not believe the rugged man who she once thought she knew, oh what I have became is just something special, I could tell she saw me in a new light as I lifted the delicate glass up to my lips, and rifled the pinky out before sipping, always keeping it classy.
I thought I keep it light that evening so I ordered a small vegetarian meal, and after consumption we discussed the contents, and being Cheese, yogurt, and oil, I know good luck pooping right, really didn’t make it all that light after all, but at least it was delicious. And again my mind was blown as we walked back after dinner when I learned something of the tourist town night life. Hookers! I think there were six three on two different corners, I just thought it was really interesting, and how much they stood out was a little shocking.
The next day was unfortunately the last day for Caitlin to be blessing me with her presence, which, might I add this trip was probably the most meaningful things she has ever done for me not to mention the most enjoyable weeks in my stay in Fiji. There were just so many reasons that made the visit great, but getting sappy isn’t for my audience of three, but maybe between Caitlin and me.



The day consisted of a long sweaty walk, and a long breakfast with the ladies at the hostel finishing off with a Fijian goodbye song accompanied with one of the ladies jamming the ukulele. At the airport it was unfortunately sad, but the insignificant month before another reunion really made things easier. After a good hug she walked through the security. Of course I wanted to drag exposure on as long as possible so I glued my face to the window with cm gaps that were transparent at watched her begin checking in. I attempted more contact, but it isn’t Caitlin’s nature to really be looking back or in any direction I might be, so no surprises when she didn’t see me.
Now I was so lucky to be able to ride a bus 4 hours back to Suva. After a ½ hour wait I hopped up into a mini bus and on the trip I felt a belonging and a sense of accomplishment. In this big van there was me and 10 other Fijians ranging from 6 to 70 years old, and for some reason sweating and living everyday life similar to these people at that moment sometime as I taught myself to count to ten in Fijian I realized the unique experience I was having and how far I have gone since my first encounters. I guess it is just one of those moments where I just felt comfortable in probably a very uncomfortable situation for many people who would be placed in the situation. Being relatively a stranger in an odd land with different people, and the fact I tolerated the discomfort of sitting for 4 hours in a 100 degree bus swapping arm sweat with my neighbor shows how Fijian I actually have become.

Kartiking

Thursday this last week caught me by surprise when the USP decided to host a little competition called the poetry slam. Being the little poet I am my attendance was necessary. The little I know about poems is that there is some kind of formation that I don’t understand, because nothing ever usually rhymes, I’ve tried to count the syllables and that doesn’t seem to work, so really what I have noticed is it happens to be pretty much just writing. Well Fiji style I feel means can you curse and can you throw in a little potty humor, you have a winner. The winners were definitely a little, different, in terms of writing a meaningful poem. In second place we had a little thug Indo Fijian with dark curly hair down to the end of his back who talked like a hip little street thug. But once he started rapping, because he refused to conform to the rest of the styles, his lyrics weren’t really all that good. I remember him talking about how large his member is when its limp, apparently 8 feet long, and then, the best rhyme of the night, “taste my paste!” That got them, the people couldn’t handle themselves. When you speak like this mixed with about 10 F***per minute to a crowd who can’t even take their shirts off when swimming its too much to handle. People roared in their very high pitched laughter and pretty much fell off their seats. The victor of the competition really blew their mind when it came to thoughts many may have never heard verbalized before. First he began by saying this poem isn’t for any of his students, and being the wiz I am at critical thinking I concluded he was a professor. Well the title was “Eating Mangos” but after hearing what he had to say about supple things and squeezing what have you so delicately between his thumb and forefinger I don’t think he was eating a mango anymore. This was critical thinking gone wrong, so so so many bad images, but somebody thought it was pretty creative. The only thing I think the innuendo’s needed to be a teensy bit more subtle to even try and make it a metaphor. More like a how to poem, and not quiet what I was looking for in my poetry competition.
So for a synopsis of an Indo Fijian weekend will be difficult because I could talk about the food and issues that come along with it forever. My friend Kartik invited me out to his house at a place called Cuvu. I must say the family was really awesome. Grandpa Gagarj, which means mighty elephant, pretty much just moves from the porch during the day to his mat on the floor of the living room. The other two who live there cook curry all freaking day, and while they do that they constantly offer this little piggy samples of it, which usually is about eating a plateful. His younger sister happens to be going to beauty school, so I offered her some practice and she filed my nails and painted them with protective layer of stuff so they were really shiny and pretty. To make the rest of me look good they offered to play Danny dress up with an Indian formal outfit called a Sharwini, and some really slick shoes called Mogiri. One problem with the whole outfit though. They were pretty much the skinniest skinny ankle pants ever, because if they got any smaller they couldn’t go on, and I even broke off a scab after putting it on, ooww. Hopefully I didn’t get any blood on them.


Oddest part of the weekend came when Kartik wanted to show me the Fijian Hotel which is located about 2 km down the road from his house. Great news to me! The water pressure at his house was very weak and many times unable to make the toilet flush, so I found that it would have been a bit awkward to drop one and leave it sitting in their toilet. Well since the Fijian hotel is a 5 star resort the toilets have to flush, and therefore it was an ample opportunity to relieve myself. I entered the facilities on a mission nothing was going to throw me off. When I plopped myself on the seat I heard footsteps follow me into the bathroom. ‘No way did he just follow me in here?’ So I listened. The footsteps sort of just were waiting next to the sink near the far end of my stall. I think he must have felt a little awkward because he first washed his hands waited for awhile, and then went to the bathroom. Because of this odd order of bathroom functions I concluded it was indeed Kartik. Well, since you don’t just follow someone into the bathroom and wait for them to do their business I decided to mess with him by seeing how long he would wait for me. My business was done and I just sat there snickering to myself about my evil intent waiting for the results of my test. Another person walked in and yet he and I were in a stalemate. Finally I got really board and began to unseat myself from the wasting position, and he asks “Danny are you ok in there?” catching me totally off guard. “Well I’m asking because you haven’t been making any noises for awhile.” Completely blown away by the awkwardness I needed to regain footing by attempting to make him realize he was just listening to me in a bathroom and how odd that was. During this time an Australian tourist was using the urinal as I explained no one follows people into the bathroom and listens to them poop, but he felt well justified because there was a group of white people showing up to the resort and thought it would be weird. Something I think I couldn’t really argue, so he justified following me into the bathroom, and I couldn’t argue it.


Time has proven I feel that girls get much more attention wherever they may go, and I have just broken that. Walking down the main street of Nadi and someone bumped my arm. I glanced back and didn’t recognize the person who was looking at me so I ignored them. As I walked away I heard a call “Hey Baby!” ‘what was that?’ I thought and again I heard again “Hey Baby!” oh boy! Stick it to the world, because no more just cat calls but now buck bleats, hot stuff. Suddenly Kartik whispers over to me, that was a prostitute. Aww man ruins everything! I wasn’t getting just a legitimate call, but it was for personal monetary gain, lame. Just another minor blow to the self esteem.



I would like to just throw a thank you out to my mother for being so great and providing me with some great support while I’ve been in Fiji by supplying me with a constant supply of sweets and yummy American goodness, and some homemade baked goods. I am also glad that there is such a business in Fiji that through rain or sun or tsunami and cyclone my parcel will cost me $2.40 and be beaten to a pulp until they know there is no meat within the package. There were pieces of my bocks falling off, and I had to go through the process of opening it and seeing the bag of chips exploded throughout the box and then the guy points to the Little Debbie asking “what is this?” “that is oatmeal” he glares at me to the cream pie and nearly shouts as his face begins to turn red, and holding back a shout says “MEAT?” finding this a little amusing I decided to be a little smart. “No its an oatmeal cream pie” he didn’t quite get it I could tell. “It’s made by Little Debbie” I lean in for a whisper “they’re my favorite.” I then was allowed to package it back up. Luckily his subordinate was much more reasonable and saw what happened to my bag of chips and offered to close it back up for me. I held it up and bam three staples across the top of the bag, good as new. The Fiji Post willing to go that extra mile to make life good for everyone.
Well a week behind and one more to catch up, so look forward to it and hopefully my crappy writing won’t deter anyone from reading. Unfortunately I am a week behind on the life events, but right now I have reached the one month left period of my adventures and am really looking forward to enjoying an action packed end to this whole ordeal. It saddens but excites me to be nearing the end. All I want is to leave with no regrets and feel that I made the most out of my time. Right now I think things should be pretty good upon return where things are complete but we shall see as events unfold.

Who knew being covered in Guano could be so fulfilling

After a week long adventure scouring the island of Taviuni for adventure a fair amount of time was needed to recover injuries that I have incurred, or maybe I was all adventured out? Either way life has been slightly less action packed unless if you count literary adventures in the USP library as an exhilarating exhibitions into the unknown world of infinite knowledge in a library. Unfortunately I found a great time to actually enjoy reading and learning things, because seriously why would I read Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles in 3 days when I’m in Fiji? I guess it’s just one of those things.
I had a test one day and it turns out Fiji time is allowable for that also. One of my classmates happens to be a middle age Tongan woman named Angie who feels the strange need to be the class clown. Every day, even 15 minutes into the test, she comes waddling in huffing and puffing and exclaims how she has to rush everyday to class, and then the punch line comes in her nasally voice I cannot understand “WAH WAH WAAAA” and the entire class bursts into a hysterical laughter. Not wanting to stand out I usually chuckle right along and throw in a few stomach pain motions in there and look around to close classmates whom I totally sell I’m laughing too. This time though I just was dumbfounded by the indifference to being late to a class, and the professor doesn’t say anything. I would also like to commemorate Monday to being the first class my real professor has taught a class. Before, for whatever reason, he seemed to be stuck on the Solomon islands for two whole months.
Another life event has occurred this past week. I have become renowned throughout the American students in Fiji as one who can really pack away a solid amount of food, so being the competitive group of individuals we are things turned competitive. I was put to the challenge. 6 people 6 large Pizza Hut pizzas and one hungry afternoon brings about a very slow moving evening. Well turns out this Pizza hut was incapable in baking more than one pizza simultaneously, so each person began at their own time. Fortunately I was the last one to receive my pizza only a fantastic way to establish my dominance. 20 minutes late to begin, and the first to finish I think was winning in style. The only problem I found was that sure I finished, but so did a 5’2’’ 100 lbs Annalise, sure she slipped into a Pizza coma for 24 hours, but I think that pretty much gives me defeat, because wow I think she almost died, and that much heart and dedication should be commended anywhere. Sure I walked around and munched off other people’s pizza’s but I just never imagined eating slice to slice with one smaller than I.
Next memorable expedition was to Wailotou Snake God Cave. After a 2 hour bus ride down a lovely 3 years in the making gravel road, soon to be paved at the end of 2010, we arrived in the village. As we walked around, as in the Roaches, Edgar and I, we suddenly heard some yelling from one of the shacks and out came a teenager clad only in a tiny towel barely wrapping around him, and might I add it looked as if he just climbed out of the shower. Odd enough, but he added to it when he constantly held his crotch when he talked to us. Well, showing the Fijian hospitality I have grown so accustomed to we were invited into their humble abode, which for a village house it was rather very nice; Large living room with three separate bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom all inside. Well, also in true Fijian fashion, we were asked to wait awhile. 45 minutes later after just plopped down on the floor waiting for our young guide to return with kerosene for the lantern. In the meantime we hung out with his dad who actually changed his clothes by taking the shirt right off of his sons back, which I found quite fun.
We made our way down the road to the chiefs house. En route we discussed proper protocol, which was pretty much just saying Dua OH before we approach him. Funny thing is later we found the name for bat poop / guano sounded very similar to Dua so I’m not exactly sure what we said that was so respectful, but after receiving the 25 dollar entry fee he allowed our entry. It was nice because I always imagined the Chiefs to be big power hungry brutish men, and very strict with their rules, but that is very far from the truth. Turns out the chief is just a gentle old man who seemed very nice, and humble. In the beginning of the cave it is just a low ceilinged crack in the mountain. After about 20ft in the guide said going barefoot would be beneficial due to the slick rocks ahead. Well everything was fine and dandy with our single shadow cast lantern and a homemade torch, which just reminded me of a molitove cocktail, being just some kind of cap on a glass bottle filled with kerosene. Fortunately I was so blessed to be the one who got to carry it, sounds fun except I think the whole blinding effect of a fire in your perifs really hinders vision in a cave. Needless to say my walking skills were lacking on the slimy floor, and whenever rocks would show up somehow I would end up stabbing myself directly in the healing infected foot I am so luckily still healing from. Needless to say I was getting a bit frustrated tagging along in the dark hurting my poor foot constantly.
Well finally the ground began to get really really soft, and the cavern became huge. If you looked really hard with the lantern light you could see thousands of enormous fruit bats circling the cave. Very exciting until you find out you aren’t walking on the greatest dirt ever, but instead we happened to be standing ankle deep in Guano. Later up the cave the terrain became rough so I needed to use my hands and plop goes my hand in a enormous pile of dung. Well after a while and a number of mishaps my entire body was completely covered in guano from head to toe poop everywhere. The worst part was my infected foot made a nice little circle of dead skin which was popped open on the hike. My nice little pocket foot didn’t waste any time in being useful because it instantly began to scoop up poop and squish inside yummy. I don’t know exactly what sort of odd diseases you can get from dealing with other things poop, but bring it on ringworm!! Since everything was just pissing me off I went back to the basics and began to sing. My only defense against a blood rage of murder was sticking to my guns and hummed out a few church hymns, and topped it off with a good ol’ Davy Crocket song.
Well once out of the cave which I with the lack of contemporary lighting devices I didn’t feel I saw too much a top largest caves in the world. But having poop smeared all over my body made things very easy to cheer up. Afterward the Fijian family who took us on the trip fed us a superb lunch, and I finished off by falling asleep on their floor setting me up for one heck of a bus ride home.
New story. Well due to the attempts by USP to bring the campus together as one and forget about the ethnic differences that have always sort of separated the campus they decided to have 3 nights of socials in a row. Thursday we had the ever so popular indigenous Fijian social, Friday the USP social where everyone is invited, and then Saturday there was an Indian Fijian social. Well I can’t imagine why all three would be straight together.



First the Fijian social. I find out that they have a mandatory dress code apparently which consists of a dress sulu and a bula shirt, also known as a touristy flowery shirt which have turned into a dressy shirt here. Obviously because I can’t say I’m much of a fan I didn’t have a bula shirt, so I was in desperate need. All the shops were already closed, so options were limited. Luckily some of the more outgoing locals in class arranged for me to meet them at the Copper Chimney where they would lend me one. Turns out Edgar didn’t have one either I find out when I was leaving, and what luck they brought two. Perfect, well party starts at 7 and it happened to already be there. Figuring it would be rude to borrow a shirt and bolt we decided sitting and watching the six Fijian girls finish their pitcher of Bounty and coke. When they reached the end another appeared, and so on and so forth 8:30 and they were on their 5th pitcher or so, while I watched them take a picture of 5 people swap the camera snap a photo switch the camera with an alternative person, and take another. Either way every person was in a picture with every combo of people possible making which seriously seemed like an endless amount of possibilities. Either way I wasn’t too thrilled. Luckily Edgar had an ace up his sleeve. With some quite 100 texts and an hour too late Arti and Natalie show up and take gave us a reason to head to the social.
It was great to get out of there, but the unfortunately the line was probably 40 minutes long Fiji time hour and a half. What didn’t help was our respect for order and control as the line moves forward. I believe we were #56 in the line, but somehow 278 people entered before us because there is just such a huge disregard for the integrity of a line. My favorite was watching them seriously walk right to the front of a nice organized line and get an arm between the wall and the poor individual attempting to guard their position. Slowly through the use of force, and a little face squishing against the wall and a shoulder they would pop through. The goofy thing was I was the only one who was upset. Everyone else accepted their inability to do anything about it and gave up. Being super hungry I got angry at my inability to control something so simple as my place in line. To demonstrate the desire for segregation at this “Fijian” social they had a list of all Fijians on campus, and would check everyone’s name off as they went through. Being white they sort of just push me ahead and don’t care. Edgar had his name looked up until he specified that he was American, because they can’t tell the difference.
After entrance was permitted there was an equally long and slow line moving towards the table of nearly infinite food. I didn’t want to wait so I ate the scraps of the American’s who were already there luckily some of them didn’t like the sweet and sour chicken. The meals were enormous, and really soupy, especially to be used with two thin paper plates to hold it. This was all sorts of lovo food cooked in lolo (coconut milk) and it sort of either spills or seeps through the paper. When the line thinned out, and I was the last one in line I moved slowly to the mountain of cassavay goodness, and as I meandered in a starving haze the floor sort of left out from under me. Luckily my dance moves were capable at keeping the feet up, but only after a 10 second improvisational dance. Well I got to the food and slop splash I was ready to go. Since there was no good reason to keep things clean, I dumped her on the walk back to the table. Also did I mention that this is a classy event? Well after everyone was done eating the free beer began, yes free beer at a school sponsored event. 36 kegs to be exact, so not only is it sponsoring drinking, but also binge drinking too, because there is no way that many kegs were going to disappear without a little over doing it.
The next night was the USP social and pretty much the same except more people and not free beer. There also was live entertainment from different student groups. Each group represented a different island nation, and they would perform a traditional dance, which none of them really look too terrible difficult. Except one took a lot of courage because the extra burly beefy Samoan men decided to dress in drag which included some tight spandex and a sports bra, and give a little scandalous dance for the people. Lovely. The next night I went and got food and left, go me for taking advantage of socials!
Well that was my social weekend. Though it didn’t sound like I was very social I did give the whole “How’s it?” “Good, U” “Good” awkward silence “Well I’ll catch you later” a good run plenty of times. I also really hurt a guys feeling though. I was talking to some guy in the food line at the Fijian social and then someone I thought was just his friend came up and stuck his hand out for a good shake. Not recognizing him I said “Danny” he responds “I know you met me a long time ago with Pesa” and a sad face came over his face. “OH yeah” oooooh ouch sorry Tom, but I really didn’t think we hit it off that well anyways. I’m sure he understands.
Well I think I covered most everything that has occurred in the last who knows how long, but I know I missed stuff, for example I went to an island out off Suva point, and we hung out on Sunday nothing spectacular, except I did my first double climb of a coconut tree in one day and daily picking was up to 7. Huge numbers accumulated. Unfortunately the ones we opened with a rock was completely barren of any moisture or meat. How lame. So now you know everything Moce!

If you step on a nail, you're going to have a bad time

Yessss I began my mid semester break off like no other break has ever started. Friday was the day of planned departure, but one of the other two of my traveling companions wasn’t feeling well so we decided to postpone the trip until Monday when the next boat departs Suva. This wasn’t bad news exactly because it gave me time to write the two papers I had due the week after break. Well one night upon completion of one paper I decided to give myself a treat by making coconut rice, which is nothing more than boiling the rice in the coconut water and adding the meat in there too. Being the master palm tree climber I am I strutted out to the tree where my dinner awaited and Stabo! After I hopped around in pain for a second I looked down to find a sharpened piece of metal jutting out of the ground. I concluded that sharp metal objects probably shouldn’t be partially concealed in ones back yard, but no worries this would only slow me down a little, only a little hobble. Well, during the trip everything was fine and dandy I cleaned it well and it didn’t show any signs of badness until the return on Monday morning. After attempting to sleep on a boat filled with cockroaches and snoring Fijians I stood up and found it really hurt. As the day progressed I decided I actually was sick and had a fever. After talking with the folks who of course one was said ”continue watching it,” and the other said “go to the doctor asap so you don’t die” I headed out to class to turn in my paper. At this time there was no rain just looked like a crappy day. I walked the long way to class, because it is less hazardous, and found that I really really didn’t feel good. I printed off my paper and during class I was a zombie spacing in and out of consciousness and ignoring all living things. If having an infected foot and a fever wasn’t bad enough my fellow students decided that there wasn’t enough time to complete the paper and asked for an extension on the due date until Friday. First of all I don’t understand how they couldn’t have finished the paper, because the topic was who, how and what are qualities of leaders, which is almost the simplest topic known to the essay world, and I do believe that foreign exchangers are the only ones who actually go and do something over break. As I exited class about ready to puke I decided the doctor on campus wouldn’t be the worst idea after all. In the waiting room I was able to inform myself of the proper BMI of both Fijians and Indians, because apparently it is different, and why smoking doesn’t relieve stress. I entered the office and I was out, go figure, the doctor said “here take these pills and you should be all better” thanks for the real informative input. Well I sulked over to the pharmacy with my prescription of antibiotics, pain pills, and six bandaids. Since I was close by I decided to stop and purchase bread from my usual place neighbor to the pharmacy. Not even kidding whenever I go into this store the cashier and I have the same conversation. “Hello can I get one large sliced loaf please?” he in return looks at the rack with the bread, and says “the breads not cut.” I turn my head an look at the bread slicer further down the counter and ask “do you think you would be able to cut any?” He doesn’t say anything then but only gives me the eyebrow raise of frustration and stares at me for a second. The I ask again “could you please cut some?” And like I ruined his entire day he sulks over to the bread cutter and 30 seconds later is a freshly sliced loaf, how inconvenient. I don’t know I just get a vibe that he really doesn’t appreciate me asking him to go out of his way to cut bread, because he doesn’t work at a bread shop or something. Well I got my drugs and tried to wait out the rain which suddenly came upon Suva. Luckily I had my umbrella hat, which is probably the greatest, but yet pointless invention ever, because once I got home after walking mach 0 my entire body except my head and chest was drenched, my bag even had puddles in it. Well now I have begun the long and arduous task of healing, and I must say I feel better now sweating off a fever, and moving very little for 2 whole days. But hopefully fate will be good to me and I won’t need to amputate my leg. I know many people may feel that I should have done something about this much earlier, but what the heck I’m in Fiji it’s all part of the experience.
Don’t worry my entire break wasn’t a complete disaster, only the beginning and the end. In between it definitely made up for all of the badness. Not everything was perfect, because I was short of food when it came to the 16 hour boat ride from Suva to Savusavu arriving in Taveuni at 10 the next day. I was able to occupy my mind on the trip by finding some locals to discuss life with. Of course I was invited to go to one of the guys village, but I doubt anything will become of that. Luckily when I couldn’t find anyone to talk to the boat provided loads of good old family wholesome entertainment. We were provided with some blockbuster classics like Soccer Mom and who can forget Lasko: Deathtrain both on my top 5 for sure. It doesn’t make any sense to me why someone would ever buy these movies when you can get any movie for $2. The greatest entertainment was watching a cockroach crawl up the wall next to me and flick him into oblivion, and of course make great sound effects with it also. For example Pkeeewwww AAAAAAAHHH. Loads of fun, and there were plenty of roaches for everyone… pun intended because it turns out the married couple I was traveling has the last name Roache.
Finally at the island, we Fiji timed the bus I think it was an hour behind schedule. Also we missed it the first time because I asked some lady if the bus that said Lavena is going to Lavena oddly enough she said it didn’t and pointed us to another one. While we waited on that bus the one I initially saw left and when the driver told us we were on the wrong bus I just didn’t understand why the lady would do that, but just goes to show you can’t trust anyone. When we were departing the bus she tried to give us a little I don’t understand look, but she knows what she did!



Our accommodations turned out to be very nice. We were staying on the outer border of the little village of Lavena, which is as far back into the sticks as one can be on a tiny island. Right away we went snorkeling. The problem was we didn’t have snorkels only goggles so breathing was quite difficult, but well worth it. Luckily I saw my first giant blue starfish, which is something you have a double take with. I swam right by it not noticing it upon a sea of grey coral and then I snapped my head around saying whoa, coolest thing ever!!! But not quite, because the trip gets much more interesting, at least to me.
That night I experienced an evening in the village. Some ladies who worked at the lounge came by and drank kava with us. The curiosity of the night was the large congregation of people around one particular building, and it turns out they were all charging their phone. The generator turns on for three buildings at sun down and then off at 10 pm and that is the only electricity besides a family with a personal one, they are apparently spoiled. I also got to realize what my spoiled life has gotten me other than an expectation for amenities which are not available very often. I slept in a room with no AC and on a foam mattress, which I sank right through to the board below. The board made my back feel great, but the puddle of sweat under me was not very enjoyable. And I couldn’t shower because every night the bathroom gets infested with giant toads, something that is really funny to watch their fat little bodies try and break their way with the Fijian ladies chasing them out. Either they run out the door or into the wall which is equally as enjoyable.
Next day we went on the Kayaking experience out into the ocean, and boy was it good until our guide decided to set a new world record, and because I insisted on going alone in a double canoe I was left behind after I gave up trying to keep up. Stupid pansy shoulders of mine, I knew I should have gotten a weight membership! With the kayaking experience we get to see some secret waterfalls no one can see otherwise, and well worth the extra money too. It was a triple decker which you could climb two of them. I jumped off one which I thought was pretty high and said ok that’s high enough until I was standing atop the next waterfall on the trip which was estimated at 45 feet. Let me tell you, it doesn’t sound impressive, but hoowee when you get up there you just have to pee a little, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Fortunately I had our guide Simone screaming at me from the sidelines, and Aaron, the Roache I mentioned earlier, gave me the signal for a great photo burst I reluctantly leapt. Really cool experience! Sort of like skydiving where you hear the wind gushing by your head nearing terminal velocity until Sploosh. Your ears pop hardcore to the point of considering a blown eardrum and of course I slapped my arms down, which wasn’t a good idea. Left them red and throbbing for a good while. Next crazy thing was one time that Aaron did it his wedding ring popped off. Thankfully a man of persuasion like I am “let’s get the goggles and find them” we decided to look. Miraculously he actually found it. I never planned on finding it because I really can hold my breath for about 15 seconds, which is just pathetic, but I am working on it. No need for thanks world morality, but I saved a marriage, just sort of doing my thing I suppose.




Friday was the big talk of the town. Anna a worker at the Lodge kept saying how much singing dancing and all the bands are going to be at the big fundraising party for the school that night. She kept joking with me telling me I was going to dance, and she really made it sound like it was going to pretty embarrassing or something. When I show up at the makeshift shelter they had erected in the middle of town built with a bamboo frame and a tin roof. Everyone from the town was seated around large bowls of Kava, with a guitar being passed around and everyone would sing. Hmm not quite the party I really envisioned, but it definitely works. We just pretty much sat, and so did the majority of everyone else. Not too much conversation going on, but an occasional shrill laugh. I sat down by a guy and said hey. His response was sort of odd for an old man with a white beard and hair. He covered his face and sort of giggled and cowered away. Odd, but the ladies from the lodge later described him as liking to dance with the men I’m pretty sure I picked up their meaning.
The time came when Anna was like dance with me Danny, so unknowingly I stood up. Now Fijian Dancing was nothing like the enjoyable humorous meke from earlier experiences. What happens is we both put our arms around each other and sort of walk back and forth. Again, not quite what I expected, but just the whole shock of the outrageousness of the party as a whole really blew my mind. They did this all night. I handled about an hour and a half tops, but I felt that was about all that I needed.
That evening luckily I got to bunk up with the married couple in the spare bed in their room because a whole ton of unexpected guests showed up. Something I never really expected myself to be doing while I was on the trip, but better than sleeping in the tents the rest of the crew had to, haha suckers, by the creeper who attempted to crawl in bed with one of them.
More injuries occurred of course. Being the coconut master, I climbed a palm tree and snagged a couple, and was going to feast. While I was peeling out the insides the knife jumped from the shell and sliced a good one right through the side of my pinky finger. Healing and didn’t get too infected so life is good. Another injury came to my heart when we were hiking the Tavoro waterfall trail. In the pool at the second falls of the trail there was just a dead dog lying in the water. Whoopsies must have missed that on Ms. Charge me 15 dollars to enter this trail, and now I can’t even swim in the water because there is a corpse in the water. It was rather sad, and the cursed land even caused Sophie to fall on the rocks when crossing the river. Looked really painful to the point I squealed in pain a bit, but she had no problems.
You could tell the end was near because people were tired, and after Aaron and I checked out the natural waterslides the book pretty much ran out of things for us to do. All except one thing. That night I knew what I had to do. Get to bed early, and so I did. Nearly 10 o’clock and I was out. My plan was to get up at four hike a mountain and see the sunrise from the mountain. Well at 4 it was still dark so I went back to bed, and it was raining so that didn’t help. There were a couple of naysayers in the group who said “Danny No! you can’t go we talked to a cab driver and he said it is very easy to get lost.” Just the adventure I was looking for, if only I had got up. At 7 I stirred, and Aaron gave me a little pep talk, but I recited all of the crybaby excuses I could think of and laid my head back down. Suddenly I was walking down the road towards the mountain, because something inside me said “don’t be a pussy,” and I was up and at em with my 20 pound bag on my back.
At the beginning it was just a gradual climb on a road through a village, and I looked at the farms and things were good. About 2 km later I was still walking by farms and was starting to drag a lot. How on earth could anyone come up here and plant stuff, even if this is a road what a hike. I figured I had to have been halfway there by then, but little did I know it was just beginning. It clouded over so I really couldn’t see the top but once and once I made it above the farms I really couldn’t see anything. Every corner I would look and pray for it to be the top but of course it was always another 100m and then another corner. I didn’t eat anything for breakfast, so luckily mom sent me a handy little bag of trail mix which I demolished, unfortunately I didn’t bring any water. Eventually I really hit the wall and it turned into an “I think I can” ordeal. As I slipped and slopped my way up the moist surface I began to conjure many grandeur fascinations of why I should be climbing this mountain. My favorite one was that I would make it to the top and God would appear to me in my weakness and give me a great burden to carry and spread some sort of revolutionary message to the people of the world. In other words I was Moses so I needed to make it to the top, so I could help people! The next bit was actually very easy with such motivation; at least now and then I would have boosts of speed when I could fantasies up energy.
Finally the Pinnacle approached I was tired, drenched in sweat, and very thirsty. Now for the most amazing view of my life… And I was inside a cloud?!?! A brutal 12km and 1168 m vertical and this is what happens. Well I made it, suck it world and everyone else in Fiji who hasn’t been up here because I’m the man. Luckily there were two radio towers with a number of people drove up to work who could enjoy such a moment with me. Refreshed because of my inhuman victory I skipped down the hill only to fall just once. GO me!
I was happy because it did what I wanted to do made me exhausted for the 16 hour boat trip back. When I boarded luckily a group of my fellow travelers bought a can of corned beef and didn’t like it so I was well fed. Life was looking good. And then as stated earlier I got sick upon return how lovely.
The trip was definitely revitalizing. It reminded me why I was here, and that is to live, and then procrastinate with school because you really can’t help it while abroad. Go life!!

Levuka

History time to the MAXX! The history field trip all began on Thursday afternoon 12:30 Fiji estimated time of departure. It was 12:20 and I sprinted over to the bus stop only to find myself with the other non Pacific Islanders waiting for the bus alone. 1:30 rolls around and finally everyone is there and we depart. On the way we had Fiji time with a number of stops which lasted plenty long for me to sit down and eat a 3 course meal at the Train Station BBQ and use the wet napkin afterwards to avoid making a mess. When we arrived at the landing where the ferry was supposed to meet us the boat was MIA, so we were blessed with getting to know each other stuffed up on a bus while it poured outside. The boat ride wasn’t too crazy because it gets dark when the boat is 2 hours behind schedule. On the island of Ovalau the leading professor said we would have nearly a 2 minute commute to Levuka where we will be spending our weekend. After driving for an hour I felt that my weekend had already had overused the bus.
The first order of business was to conduct our SevuSevu to the Man of Levuka. We walked there through rain, puddle, and wind determined not to miss the SevuSevu, because it is that important. We arrive to the room where there was already a congregation of people huddled around the Tanoa, the Kava bowl. One of the Fijian students went on his knees with both hands on the bundle of unground kava root, while I so comfortably sat cross legged and gave a 5 minute speech which sounded very well rehearsed. Later I learned all it does is state our business and shows gives recognition to the generosity of allowing a visit. Then the spokesman for the village gives a speech which sounds exactly the same to an untrained ear, but instead is accepting our thanks and allowing us into the area. As the kava is distributed I found that I was offered about 5 cups where everyone else was given one. They also laughed whenever I got the cup, so I’m guessing they thought I didn’t like it so they thought it was funny when I refused.
Afterward, it was a walk to the other side of Levuka for pizza. Initially the rain stopped, but while we were walking you could hear behind us something coming up slowly. One of the guys who went with turns around and exclaims “Here it comes” and we began to sprint down the street away from the invisible suffering brought by rain. Luckily as soon as we jumped under an overhang the rain caught us and we were spared its true wrath. Even with such great effort to stay dry we were drenched upon arrival at the Pizza place. Upon the conclusion of the thinnest greasiest pizza ever the group felt it would be proper to wash it down with a few drinks.
The bar experiences never fail to introduce me to very uncomfortable situations. This time it involved a young drunk man who really wanted to talk to the “Angels” or the American girls, and when he was deterred by being ignored he turned to me in order to release some verbal rage. Apparently his ancestors told him about me and that I couldn’t understand because I don’t accept what he is telling me. He didn’t make much sense, but the hand gestures and his tone made him somewhat threatening. Once he left I was able to have a very pleasant conversation about politics with Christian the German, which it turns out that he thought Germany made some bad decisions in WWII, so I was happy to know that they have the same story as us when it comes to such occurrences in history.
Good Friday we went to a Methodist church in a village, and listened to it in all Fijian, which I originally thought would be interesting, but it was actually very very difficult to feel a purpose in being there. The enjoyable moments come when people sing, and they didn’t disappoint as usual. Next came the second Sevusevu of the weekend, which wasn’t as special because this wasn’t an exclusive small group. The entire group of USPers were invited and sat through it. Even the 10 year old Tongan child who came with his mom was able to drink grog, which really killed the grandeur feeling from the night before, and made me feel like a tourist again. Lunch was served and prepared with the process of Lovo of course. Finally, true Fijian cuisine, and let me tell you it sure was traditional. I really do not have a hard time eating things too often, but wow this hurt pretty bad at some parts. I just couldn’t get over the green mud looking stuff from my cut in half crab oozing all over my steamed dalo shoots with coconut milk, and eating with my fingers and sifting through crab intestines and gunk just isn’t a typical meal for me.





After the conclusion of the sevusevu, we were given permission to roam the town as we please and see a number of the historical sites. I felt really bad when our entire group bailed instantly without observing anything, and the most common reason was to go take a nap, makes me want to puke, which unfortunately recently I have taken my first deliberate nap since I’ve been here. : ( Luckily I and a number of other restless souls decided a nap was not really the style of life we desired, so we ventured deep into the villages jungle, about 30 meters out of town, on a path to their swimming area. The waterfall wasn’t too impressive, so luckily I discovered a fine way of adventuring. On the sidewall of the falls there was a thick old vine scaling the 30 ft vertical wall. Giving into my gorilla instincts I decided to venture to the top to see what’s on the other side. I reached the top, which had a walking path up there, leaving instant death behind. Really all I did was to give the others the impression of stupidity, and get bitten by a spider, which sort of hurt a bit, but well worth it. Unfortunately like all of my exploits they were not caught on camera, so there is no documentation of the impressive climb I performed. Later I was climbing another vine except across the pool and it snapped, luckily I was directly over the water, but it made me really appreciate the last climb I had.
That night we were so blessed with a professor who believes in culturing on another so we had a list of songs that are traditional to each of the nations that were represented in our group. Turns out that America was represented with a very lame song, “don’t know much about history,” and after the written songs were depleted they turned to the groups creative side to sing and maybe dance in their unique ways. After a number of Pacific Islander style songs it came to the Americans. Determined to regain our pride I quickly filed through my mental library of songs and of course came up with the best one to sing ever. “Da Turdy Point Buck.” I needed to explain the scenario because I don’t believe anyone really followed the story, but at least I tried. I kicked in a solid accent, and busted out the rhymes. Everyone looked quite confused, because all of their art was beautiful and meaningful where mine was just stupid, but I gave them a good taste of Wisconsin – American culture I feel.
Once upon a time Fiji’s weather was good to me and provided plenty of opportunities to enjoy the land to the fullest. Not here and not now. There was so much rain going on it really dampened my spirits. We did find time to go swimming again with the entire backside population on Levuka, who happen to live up in a valley in the mountains, really cool, but poor unfortunately.




Sunday’s mass was rumored to be at 8 AM and luckily my super flamboyant roommate Joeli I was able to be blessed with times his snoring right when I need to wake up. Of course church doesn’t start until 9 so I was plenty early. Church was pretty much just another mass, except in a neat building and many people sat on the floor, but this one was actually in English though. Adventures that day were postponed due to a lack of organization, but I set out with the instructors eager to impress son, and two very tightly knit Indo Fijian sisters. We set out for Gun Rock where I believed to know where I was going, but found a tour 8 year old tour guide. As we followed him we skipped over the village I have become a member of and began our decent next to a little house. As we walked by, a middle aged woman stuck her head out of a window and began to scold our little guide. She moved outside the house and began to scold me also for just meandering onto someone’s property without permission. She lacked any forgiveness when I told her I was following the little guy, but did say that it was ok because “you don’t know anything” lovely. Luckily, or possibly not, there just so happened to be the first thunderstorm rolling in and I exited because I didn’t think fighting the rain up the hill would have been worth it. Instantly after we entered cover at the hotel lake Michigan fell upon us.
The hotel we were at happened to be surrounded by a little moat connecting on two different sides to the ocean. I would guess it to be 10 feet deep walls, but normally have 2 feet of water in it. Within the hour it was a gushing river of doom sweeping away anything and everything that may accidentally fall in. All I saw was those really terrifying, at least when it becomes a realistic possibility, situations on spike tv where someone is trapped in the middle of a raging river, while people sort of video tape. That is the situation I imagined myself in once the power went out and all you could hear while we ate dinner was flowing water from outside. Luckily nothing came of the river, but the power was out for about 5 hours, and what fun it was wading through knee deep standing water in an attempt to reach my dorm room.
The next day we were compelled to be ready to leave at four so sleeping wasn’t really an option. We first began by relaxing in a room and I listened to some of the most negative conversation of my life. It really consisted of opinions on people I didn’t know too well, and I found it a little cruel some of the things people were mentioning. Once my quota of meaningless insults was finally complete I ventured to our dining hall where 5 of the group members were sitting around drinking grog. Sounds interesting I know, but to entertain between takis Father Brian, and I do mean Father as in a Catholic priest, strummed away on the guitar, while the others in the chorus sang along with such popular tunes like “I’m all out of love,” and my contribution of “Lean on Me.” All night we jammed away bilo after bilo, or a cut in half coconut shell, and enjoyed life.
Turns out 4 o’clock in the morning comes around very fast, and before you know it I’m scrambling around cleaning up my stuff attempting to not be late. And of course being the responsible individual I am, I was cleaning up after the rest of our shack, no need to thank me or even notice, but you’re welcome. I make it to the stop just at four beating nearly all of the group, go figure, and then the bus turns out to be 30 minutes late. Once boarding has been completed and our bus has driven onto the boat I found not only did I have a semi upset stomach, but also I changed my mind about the effects of kava. Turns out the whole body relaxer isn’t an exaggeration. I could hardly even stand up and walk around the boat, but my mind was perfectly clear. Luckily the effects wear off within 2 hours, because if they didn’t the boat would have moved. Let me just point that one out. The boat didn’t leave until 6:30, so why on earth we were standing on it at 4:30 was beyond me. Luckily the boat was beautiful along the entire western coast of Ovalau, and I saw all of the things I wanted to climb earlier, but was unable to because of the rain which decided to plague me the entire weekend.
Once home I was relieved to find it was still 10 in the morning though it felt like it was nearly 4. There was a surprise though. This weekend Edgar somehow picked up a British refugee who has been stranded in Fiji, due to some problems with her visa and stuff, so she is going to live on our couch for the week. So how lovely I have another roommate! But unfortunately for her I hadn’t slept for 36 hours, so I wasn’t much of a host.
Scary story time. I was in my room nearly ready to go to bed, so in my boxers. And there I see the devil slowly creeping up my wall. In order not to scare it I froze, also being completely terrified didn't help either. Once it was up in the curtain rods where I couldn't see it I quickly put clothes on, because doing battle would not be a good idea in underwear. I prepared myself with the proper weapons to crush the crud out of the little vermin once emerged again. Seen I saw him La Coocaracha in all of his enormous glory scurrying up the wall again. I didn't hesitate and struck a killing blow quickly and effortlessly. When I removed my weapon of doom from the corpse it peeled itself off the wall and fell blood and guts on my pillow. Yuck! so pillowcaseless that night I slept, taught me to be aware of my surroundings at all times.
This evening we enjoyed one of our American famous Pot-Luck, and since we had a large number of new people there were questions brought up that I couldn’t answer. The group of Fijians, the British, and the Canadians each asked what the heck a pot-luck is. I really didn’t know so I made up the best answer I could. “Well you see everyone brings a pot of food to share, and you are lucky if you don’t get food poisoning in the end, hence pot-luck.” That was the best definition I could come up with, but if anyone knows the purpose of such a name I challenge anyone to give me a better definition, without looking it up of course.
Well fantastic news. It is the beginning of mid semester break, and not spring break because it is the fall here, so no one understands my spring break lingo. But I will be gone on the garden island of Taveuni hopefully climbing the biggest mountains and jumping off the tallest waterfalls it has to offer. Wish me luck!!!