Random thoughts on Fiji

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Fiji Time:
1. A loose definition of time where the actual time can differ widely from that quoted. "Dinner will be at 7pm Fiji Time" means that dinner will be served whenever it is ready. This will depend on several factors including what time the cooks finished doing whatever it is they were doing before they started cooking (probably sleeping), and how long it takes to cook, but has little relation to the quoted figure of 7pm.
2. A state of mind where clocks have little relevance. Things get done in their own time. Eat when you feel hungry, work when you feel like working. And any hard work is always compensated for by a nap, preferably on a hammock overlooking the ocean.

"Bula, I'd like to check in for the 12:30 flight to Labasa."
"Sorry sir, that flight left at 09:00 this morning. 'Fiji Time'."
"Sega na lega", a useful Fijian term meaning 'no worries'. "Is there another flight?".
"Not today, but I'll put you on a flight to Suva and from there you can get the 15:30 to Labasa."
"Vinaka"

The Fijians seem to have things worked out. They seem totally unaffected by the rush and busy-ness of the rest of the world. There is not that constant drive to keep trying to get ahead. They have found a balance they are happy with and have settled there. It's the kind of attitude that I found myself slipping into over my last year or so at work, and what I think convinced me to quit. When I stopped setting my alarm in the morning and counting hours worked each day, settling into my own pace rather than that dictated by the corporate world.

In fact, I think this is the first time I have even thought about work since I left.
"What do you do at home?"
"Ummm... something to do with IT." Quick change of subject... "So how many Manta Rays were out this morning?"
"I think I saw 3. Or maybe it was just the one 3 times. Only a small one though. Maybe 3m."
"I heard there is one here with a wing span over 8m."
"Yeah, that's about the same size as the roof of that Bure."
"Phwaaah!..."

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A couple of months ago all I knew about Fiji was it was full of resorts full of couples and families, a few nice beaches with palm trees and some pretty looking blue water. My plans were just to spend some time relaxing. A chance to unwind before my real adventures begin at some more exciting locations around the world. But the real Fiji took me totally by surprise. I have fallen in love with the place, the people and the lifestyle.

Laughter, song, dance and relaxation. Villages working as a community, kids being kids. The whitest of beaches, bluest of waters and the rainbow of the coral reefs. An endless supply of coconuts, tropical fruits and fresh fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The hierarchy and ceremony around the grog mat each night providing comfort and place for each person.

For 4 weeks I felt completely welcomed into this lifestyle. Sure, I visited the occasional party island, acted the part of a tourist, got pissed, and danced on a few tables, but these were my nights out, and the rest of the time I was made to feel like Fiji was my 2nd home.

It wasn't until my last few hours on the way out to the airport that I got a glimpse of the other side of Fiji. The side I was expecting to see before I arrived. After arriving back from the Mamanuca Islands on the ferry, the bus I was supposed to catch was full. So instead I was was put on a luxury coach that was returning to the airport after doing a round of Denarau Island to drop off all the Mamanuca Daytrippers at their hotels. The whole island of Denarau is like a series of hotels and shopping centres with a Fijian theme, that just happens to be in Fiji. But really they look like they are no different to any hotel or shopping complex in any western country. It's the kind of place a Fijian would never visit unless they worked there. The whole island is even gated to separate it from the rest of Fiji.
"This stop for Hilton hotel. All passengers for the Hilton."
"Westin Hotel."
"All passengers for the Marriot."
"Is this our hotel dear?"
"I can't tell. They all look the same."
"I wish the driver would make announcements in English."
"This stop for the Radison."
"Any passengers for the Sheraton?"
After about a dozen near identical hotels, I started to feel a little sick. What had happened to the Fiji I had fallen in love with over the last month? Then all of a sudden the genius of this place hit me. The gates aren't to keep the locals out. They are there to keep the tourists in. Make them feel all safe and secure in their own little imitation of home, and they won't be tempted to leave. By quarantining the tourists on this small island, the rest of Fiji has managed to retain its magic. I love this place. I love Fiji.

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