Don't Worry...Fiji Time

Fiji was meant to be my holiday from travelling but it didn’t feel that way to begin with. The weather was shocking. I never thought I’d bring rain to Fiji but I managed it. Every day was the same but it didn’t affect me too much as it was at its heaviest on a night. I just hoped it would disappear by the time I arrived at the islands!

Having discovered that I am some sort of Rain Princess, I decided to head out to a large water source for nourishment. Namatakula is situated near a waterfall. I say near, it was still a bus ride and a 40 minute trek, but in Fiji, that’s near.

This didn’t faze me. I was a few days into my trip in Fiji and I was already so relaxed I felt like I was floating most of the time. Everything works on “Fiji time”. This is a phrase commonly heard in Fiji and used by many as a joke when things don’t happen on time. Fijians work on a different timescale to foreigners. Things get done when they get done. It’s Fiji time!

When do I ever need an excuse to slow down? You can never be late in Fiji so whenever I apologised for losing track of time, Tupou reassured me that it’s ok – “Fiji time!” I like this concept. I doubt it would ever crossover to another country which is a shame. 

The funny thing is I used to be a stickler for time-keeping in England. I hated it when people turned up ridiculously late or if things didn’t run on time. It stems from my impatient persona. I think this part of my personality has moulted from my brain at some point. 

My frame of mind now is – as long I get the outcome that suits me then I’m not too fussed about what happens up until that point. What’s the point of getting worked up over something that’s usually out of your hands anyway?

Before we headed to watery paradise, Tupou took me to a women’s community meeting. I had no idea what was going on. Money was exchanged, notes were written in books and issues were discussed. As laid back as Fijians are, this village is organised when it comes to matters that affect the community. Everyone sticks together to ensure that things run smoothly, laws are followed and the people are healthy (and well fed).

Catching the bus was easier today but the trek was not. Due to the delightful rain, it meant the track was muddy and slippery. Lazy tourists rode on horseback but I persevered.

One of many streams we waded through to get to the waterfall

Tupou picked up a little something for dinner

Almost there...

Oooo

There were a few tourists dotted about when Tupou and I arrived but thankfully they buggered off after we ate lunch. I had the place to myself.

Tupou didn’t join me as the water was too cold. It’s funny how the mild weather on the main island has the same effect on the locals as England’s bitter winter does to me back home. Everyone wraps up, especially Sake with his woolly hat and giant raincoat.

After drying off and getting changed behind a rock, we made our way back to the bus stop. This time around things were slightly different…

My afternoon remained the same as always. I showered and rested in my room. Laughter echoed through my cabin from the school kids playing rugby on the beach. They practise every day as rugby is taken very seriously here. Apparently Namatakula is well known for producing top rugby players for the country. It’s one of two major ways where locals have the opportunity and means to leave their country. Due to the low minimum wage, a Fijian with a standard job would have to save for years to afford a flight out of the country.

Another way is love. Fijian men are very keen on western women. As there are no white Fijians, we are an exotic presence. If cupid strikes, Fijian men can follow their new beaus back to their native country. Don’t worry mum, I won’t be bringing back a Fijian for dinner!

Speaking of, that night we ate at Tupou’s father’s house.

We ate the Fijian way

The green dish to the left is what Tupou picked up on the way to the waterfall. It was surprisingly tasty

It was another night of kava and an interesting dessert. It was the smelly papaya in coconut milk. I couldn’t eat it as the smell hit me straight away. I felt bad for not eating more.

Just as we were settling down for kava, some Aussie students dropped by to say hello. This isn’t unusual in Fiji as most people have an open door policy, especially in villages. If someone is having kava, it is not uncommon for passers-by to come in and join the group.

Each of the girls was volunteering at one of the schools as part of their studies. We had a brief chat and they left. It did not surprise me that they didn’t want to stay for kava.

We didn’t stay long as Tupou wasn’t feeling too good and was suffering from a bad back. I joked that she should have some kava to cure it.

Little did I know, things were about to take a turn for the worse. For the remainder of my stay with Sake and Tupou, I was ill. I was the sickest I’d been in a very long time. It was horrendous and worrying seen as I was nowhere near a medical centre.

Tupou knew what was wrong with me straight away - too much kava. WHAT!? If I knew that kava could do this to me then I’d never have drank it.

By the end of the next day, I was left a weakened quivering mess. I couldn’t eat and I was in so much pain. I took paracetamol throughout the day along with rehydrating sachets. I barely made it out of the room for the next two days. This was not good as I was due to depart soon to island hop.

Thankfully, I felt slightly better. I still wasn’t 100% but was well enough to begin my island hopping adventure.

Sadly, I missed Tupou before I left which was strange. Normally Tupou would knock on my door to tell me it was time for dinner or whatever was scheduled. Today was different and Tupou left with another homestay resident for the market.

Sake drove me back to the resort where I stayed when I first arrived in Nadi. A brief goodbye later, and I was alone again. I felt bad that my farewell didn’t reflect my time I had with Sake and Tupou. Unfortunately “Fiji time” bit me in the ass today!

Expect The Unexpected

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, or so they say. As a backpacker, breakfast is the worst meal of the day for me. It’s the part of my daily routine which tames the morning monster that arises in the morning and kick-starts what should be a wonderful day of travel.

At home I have my routine cereal which my body is used to and always does the trick. If not, then the cycle to work definitely wakes me up and provides a lovely little adrenalin rush. Since travelling, my ways have changed from active to sluggish.

If there’s a free breakfast going at a hostel, I stock up on all the bad stuff. Bread is top of the list as it fills me up or anything with high doses of sugar (duh!).

Moving from place to place has meant that my morning routine is shattered. I don’t have a regular cereal as food is inconvenient to carry and store. Exercise is a long-distant memory. It’s not time that’s the issue for me, it’s the practical side of things which I didn’t anticipate. Carrying around sweaty clothes until my next wash isn’t nice at all and even simple things like the weather can alternate my plans. Rain seems to follow me everywhere and the last thing I need is wet clothes to deal with.

It does sound like the ramblings of someone looking for an excuse not to exercise, but I love to run. I miss my five mile route at home. It’s something I will become all too familiar with when I get home. I do believe that America will provide the final push in my inadvertent quest to clog an artery!

My first morning at Sake and Tupou’s included paw paw. Alongside this I had bubbacao, a light fluffy donut. I doused them with jam and fulfilled my hapless breakfast quota in the sugar stakes.

Still unsure on what to do that day, I tagged along with Sake and Tupou to the local market.

On the way out through the village, I met more new faces and names and was littered with bula callings. It’s an uplifting feeling being welcomed in such a manner. I think it’s actually impossible to say bula downheartedly as it’s such a sing-song word.

Due to having a little lie-in this morning, it was going to be a while until a bus to the market came. Sake and Tupou informed me that when this happens, sometimes it is possible to hitchhike and pay the driver the equivalent to the bus fare. This custom became one of many that reflected the friendly and giving nature of the villagers and Fijians in general.

It wasn’t long until Sake had flagged down a passing mini-van that was travelling to the markets.

As we arrived, the swarms of Fijians and tourists bustling through the streets were a stark contrast to the laid back atmosphere of the village. I followed Tupou and Sake through the streets as they fulfilled their errands.

Fiji is partial to Tim Tams too. I didn’t buy any though as I doubt I’ll ever be hungrier enough to eat them! I did buy some beer though as Sake recommended drinking it after kava

Fiji markets selling fruit, vegetables and trinkets

Along the way, I asked where would be the best place to buy a sarong or sulu as Fijians call it. The ones at the airport were quite expensive so I was hoping to bag a bargain. Tupou showed me a few shops and said that sulus should be $5.

The sulu that I ended up buying cost $15. Tupou did enquire about the $5 sulus but the staff mumbled an excuse. It could be that tourists pay one price and locals pay less. This was an everyday occurrence in Thailand as people know that tourists can afford to pay more and what is expensive to locals is still pretty cheap to tourists. I didn’t argue as I really wanted the sulu. It was really nice and I definitely needed something light to wear for covering up my legs in the village.

Walking through the markets and on to where we stopped for lunch, Tupou pointed out that we were drawing quite a few stares. A white girl with two Fijians old enough to be my parents is an unusual sight for tourists so it seems. We joked that I’m their new adoptee.

With everything checked off the to-do list, we headed back to the village. Namatakula is situated next to a school and I had the opportunity to drop by for a visit. You may well laugh as my fear of children has cropped up quite a few times on my travels. But just like the cute and polite kids in Japan, Fiji too has their fair share of adorable happy kids that I don’t shudder at the sight of. Perhaps this could become another fear that is conquered or at least lessened in severity.

The first time I’ve ever seen a sponsored school

Tupou led me through to the main building, passing smiling curious children on the way. Every now and again, Tupou would hand out loose change which was a sweet gesture.

Apprehensively, I entered a classroom full of young children. The teacher turned out to be the Head of the school as well as the administrator – a very busy lady indeed. The Head explained the curriculum and what the children are learning at the moment.

My visit wasn’t entirely over just yet. Before I left, the children sang and danced for me. As each song progressed, the children got louder and closer to me. The children addressed me as Miss Danielle. They had no problem in pronouncing my name. It’s funny as many adults, even from England (!), struggle with my name.

Before I left, I gave the Head a monetary donation along with two bouncy-balls and a pack of playing cards for the children. I’d been holding on to them since Australia as I knew they’d be worthy gifts to hand over.

Netball is a rough game

There was still much of the day left but I chose to rest before dinner. I was rather tired the night before so conversation was quite thin on the ground. Tonight was different and we all asked each other questions and told stories.

Just as the night before, we ate and went out for kava. I decided to bring some bubbacao with me as kava does give you the munchies.

Tupou smiled and said that I’m already thinking like a Fijian. This came hours after saying that I looked Fijian with my new sulu. I felt like part of the family.

As we entered the house, Tupou told me it was somebody’s birthday.

With every birthday comes cake

There are three drinking levels to kava – low tide, high tide and tsunami. Yesterday, I started on low tide. I had a few cups at that level. Tonight I had been elevated to high tide. Wowser. I was gone after two cups. They used bigger cups as well! I think they were testing me as I bet most people just have one cup, smile and then never drink it again. I also found that it was mainly men who drink kava. There were a couple of women drinking on the first night but they didn’t have much. Tonight, it was definitely a man’s world.

Scobee was trying to get me to stay longer and drink more but I couldn’t fit anything else in. He’d been winding me up all night with little jokes and jibes. It was all in good jest of course. Scobee told me that Fijians have a cheeky sense of humour. I decided to test my audience and see if I could win more favour by joking back. I let the birthday boy (well...man) know that if he feels that he has any problems finishing the cake, I am free all week to help out. Everyone laughed, including the birthday boy, so I’m hoping I passed!

Full of cake and kava, I took one of my beers I bought earlier and went back to my room to mellow out completely. I melted into bed for another peaceful night’s sleep.

Bula Fiji!

Departing Christchurch for Fiji became confirmed again how much I have changed since travelling. Having had a welcomed lie-in, I took the rest of the morning quite easy. I ate breakfast and made my final packing adjustments. I’d already posted items home to clear up some room in my bag and my postcards were written and ready to be dropped in the post box.

Even though I had plenty of time, I decided to jog to the post box. Partly to warm up but mainly to lull myself into a false sense of security that it would help burn off some of the Fergburgers demolished in Queenstown.

With everything organised and ready to go, I sat around and waited for my shuttle to the airport. A friendly receptionist told me to wait in the dining area and she would come and get me when it arrived. I distracted myself with the giant map of the world attached to the wall. I waited…and waited…and nothing. I moved to reception in case I’d been forgotten about.

Receptionist was shocked to see I was still here and thought I’d left already. Hmm, clearly not. It turns out that my driver had been sat waiting for me at the airport for the past half hour. Oh dear. I found the whole thing rather funny and wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Receptionist panicked and said I could call the airport if I needed to.

In my eyes I had plenty of time and I wasn’t that bothered because the shuttle was free for those staying at the hostel. Why get angry at a service that’s free anyway?

Soon enough my goofy driver turned up and bashfully apologised. We sped off to the airport. I felt like I was in a car chase scene. Witnessing everyone’s nervousness, it dawned on me that I used to be like that.

Granted, I still get stressed and frustrated at things – hell, you read my blogs about Australia – but in day-to-day life, I don’t tend to worry about things. I always get where I need to be and things have a way of working out even when it might not look that way. Maybe that’s the reason for my newfound laid back nature. As I’m not stressing every second of the day like I was in England, it’s not an instinctive reaction to have to occurrences.

Moving from country to country I’ve realised that I’m capable of a lot more than I thought. It’s brought about a subtle air of confidence in myself which helps me breeze past most problems I used to halt at and think of every possibility and outcome before making my decision. Going with the flow is so much easier! Getting annoyed at things that are out of your control is another thing that I’ve eased off from. Of course, there’s nothing like a good moan and I also have the occasional rant that surfaces but hey, I never said I was perfect.

To get back on track, I boarded the plane and found I had plenty of leg room but no television screen in the seat in front of me. To make matters worse, I had babies to the left of me, babies to the right of me…and toddlers galore. One demon was sat behind me punching my seat. But I somehow tuned it out and rested on the knowledge that it wasn’t a long flight and it’d soon be over. I had a film called Sophie to distract me on a drop-down screen. It’s about a girl and her pet elephant. Meh, it was alright.

Cries and screams were replaced by elated greetings. “BULA!” sounded from every worker I passed and when I made it to arrivals, a group of men in brightly coloured attire sang and played instruments. What a welcome.

After I collected my luggage, I made my way to the exit. I’d sent an email to the resort I was staying at for the night with my arrival time. An airport transfer was included with my stay which was good. Everyone goes on about “Fiji time” and how everything is so laid back and slow-paced. I was prepared for a wait but was pleasantly surprised to find a lady holding up a piece of paper with “Bula” and my name on in big thick black letters.

Bula is a Fijian greeting which translates as life or to live. It is quite fitting as Fijians have such a zest for life but there will be more on that later.

As I was driven back to the resort, I stopped off at a shop to pick up some kava. This is the name of the plant but it’s the root that is used to produce a drink commonly consumed by Fijians. I bought it in powdered form so it can be added to water to form a drink. I will hand this to my hosts who I will be staying with in a small village called Namatakula. I just hoped that I got the good stuff and not some dust out of the vacuum cleaner!

It was already starting to get dark. There didn’t seem to be much activity going on in the surrounding area of the resort, nor inside for that matter. This suited me just fine as I wanted a good rest before my bus journey to the village the next day. I had the dorm to myself too which was perfect. I took advantage of the wifi and left a message on Facebook letting everyone know that I was abstaining from all internet activity including my blog. I wanted complete rest and relaxation during my two weeks in Fiji. It was to be my holiday from travelling. I didn’t want to worry about where the nearest plug socket was to charge my laptop or seek out a free wifihotspot (non-existent on the islands!).

Sleep came relatively easy to me that night as my final thoughts of complete disconnection from the world relaxed me.

*****

Free airport transfer, free wifi and now free breakfast. The world is a better place when stuff is free. Poached eggs on toast with a reasonable cup of tea certainly hit the spot.

Once my free breakfast was devoured I made my way to reception for another free transfer back to the airport. The bus to the village where I was going to stay departed from there which was handy.

There didn’t seem to be any bus stop signs so I asked at the information desk. They kindly pointed to a vague area outside and said the bus will stop outside. Yes, but outside where? Never mind.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a clue where to wait as one German girl and two Brits joined my club of confusion.

An airport staff member waited to one side and said he’d point out the bus to us. He says it’s a good quality vehicle with air conditioning. Just as he said that, a bus drove past without any windows and I laughed. I guess that’s what is classed as air conditioning in Fiji.

But surprisingly I was about to eat my words as a top-notch coach rolled up. Our bags were placed in an underside compartment and we took our seats inside. It was a little cramped but there was definitely air con.

One of the girls sighed and said she wanted to go on the bus with no windows. For a three to four hour journey, are you crazy? Yes I want to see the real Fiji, but right now I’d like to get to Namatakula with the hair on my head still attached!     

As the bus pulled away from the airport, a sizable television screen dropped down from the front of the bus. I didn’t realise we got entertainment too!

First up was the superbly acted Bring It On: All or Nothing followed by Rush Hour. It was only as I came closer to Namatakula that I noticed I’d barely looked out the window. I’m a sucker for a dance movie. Chris Tucker on the other hand…

So I happily looked out as we passed tiny village after tiny village. Some had cement houses whilst others were populated by simple metal huts. Finally it was my turn to get off. Waiting for me at the stop was a guy who knew Sake and Tupou, my hosts. He kindly carried my bag to the main house. Tupou greeted me jovially and took me to where I would be staying for five nights.

My hut

My comfy double bed

I had a hut all to myself by the beach. Unfortunately the beach was a little messy after the floods but the view was still lovely.

We sat down on the chairs inside my hut and Tupou went through a few things with me. Mainly times when we eat and how things will work. As Tupou continued, I felt something jump on my lap. I looked down to find the cutest kitty I have ever seen.

Meet Fluffy...

...and Porsche

Once I’d been shown around Tupou went off to make some lunch. As I didn’t confirm a time that I’d be arriving, Tupou wasn’t sure when to start cooking. I felt terrible of course. I didn’t realise I needed to give a time. I had no idea when I’d crawl out of my bed so I left it open-ended.

Tupou cooked up a lovely curry that I couldn’t finish as I was so full. “More food, more food,” cheered Tupou. I couldn’t eat another bite. I hate not leaving an empty plate as it’s usually seen as a slur against the food.

After lunch, I went back to my room for a rest. I don’t know if it was the heat or the large meal, but I was so tired. I almost drifted off but knew that it wouldn’t help me get a good night’s sleep if I had a nap.

When the time had arrived for dinner to be served, I made my way into the main room. The dining table had been set and food was about to be served.

Sake and I tuck in

What a feast! There was plenty to go around. It was only as Tupou placed separate servings for herself and Sake that I realised all the food that was in front of me was mine to eat!!

Tupou laughed at my reaction and said that I’ll never go hungry whilst I’m with her and that she promises I’ll put on 10kg. What!?! I certainly don’t need fattening up!

Dinner was delicious but I honestly couldn’t eat another bite. I tried, but failed miserably.

When the food had settled, we made our way across to a different house with my kava. It was time to get to know Fiji a little bit better.

The thing about small communities is that everyone knows each other and in Namatakula, pretty much everyone is related in some way or another. It was rather overwhelming on my first day. I remembered nobody’s name at first. There were no Daves or Lauras here so learning names in Fiji was tricky. Mine was easy as the homestay is called Danny’s!

We all sat around a large bowl of water on a woven mat. One guy sprinkled the kava onto a wet cloth and started to soak and twist the cloth as though he was massaging the kava.

Having read my trip notes thoroughly, I knew that the etiquette when sitting down is to sit cross-legged or with your legs to the side. At no point should your legs and feet be facing forward. Other village rules include no hats or sunglasses as they are disrespectful to the chief and knees and shoulders should be covered when walking in the village. Simple stuff really.

One thing that wasn’t mentioned was what to do at a kava ceremony. I just thought you sat and drank it which is what I did. Once I was handed the bowl I drank and then handed it back. It was only as I watched the others that I realised you should clap once, say “Bula,” drink and then clap three times. Others may join in the three claps too.

As we all settled down and had a few rounds of kava, the conversations were flowing. Obviously every now and then everyone spoke in Fijian and I had no clue what was going on. Scobee (the only name I can remember but probably can’t spell correctly!), kindly translated and got me in on a few of their conversations. Scobee told me that they mostly talk about village issues and life in general. It’s a chance to catch up and discuss things.

It kind of reminded me of what us Brits do when we nip down to our local for a beer and a chat with friends. We talk about what we’ve been up to, life and then completely random crap. I didn’t hear any silly games or jokes though. Perhaps they save that for when I’m not around!

Kava definitely mellowed me out. It does have an anaesthetic quality to it and I definitely felt it! Everyone was pleased that I tried the kava and impressed with how much I had. It was ok. It tastes how it looks…

Bottoms up!

Looks...tasty

Scobee joked that he'd always tell tourists that it tastes like chocolate milkshake. The funniest thing was that they believed him. Until they drunk it of course!

I wanted to stay longer but felt so tired, I had to call it a night. Tupou took me back to my hut as it was dark and I’d probably get lost (she knows me already!).

As soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light. This is very unusual for me as I am such a restless sleeper. It normally takes me a long time to get to sleep and I shift about from side to side in an effort to get settled and comfortable. You’d be damned if you shared a dorm with me and a squeaky bed! I think I could get used to this kava stuff.