What's your picture of paradise? Yeah, an isolated island with palm trees, white sand, clear ocean water and blue skies. Well, we found it. It's about an hour's boat ride and a fifteen minute bus ride from Nadi City, Fiji. That's where we spent our last two nights before returning home.
We're in paradise but we're not totally comfortable with it. For one thing, we're just not used to being waited on. We've gone from over twenty-five days of sleeping in a tent or a camper van to a hotel in Fiji with lots of staff, a free shuttle from the airport and a modern room with a balcony. We feel self-conscious. For one thing there's not a lot of tourists at the Hotel Mercure, and we worry about how much to tip. "Tipping isn't expected in Fiji but if the service is particularly good, it's appreciated," according to the Lonely Planet guidebook. And we think it's appreciated because business is slow. Whenever we step out of the hotel three people ask us if we need a cab.
"No, Vinanka, [one of two words we've learned in Fijian], we're just taking a walk." And we go down the street to a small dark store and buy instant noodles for breakfast. The hotel has a breakfast buffet every morning but it cost $30 each! They fix all this food, and I only see a few people down in the dining room every morning.
Business is slow because just last month there was a military coup. "Don't worry, there are coups in Fiji every few years and they're always bloodless," an American on the airplane from L.A. told me. He'd married a Fijian woman, and he shared his point of view of the conflict. A few hours later another American who volunteers on an organic farm near Aukland three months every year gave me another perspective.
In Fiji, you see two cultures: the people who are descended from Polynesians and Melasians who settled there centuries ago and the Indo-Fijians descended from East Indian contract laborers brought in to work the sugarcane fields by the British who had colonized the islands. Now the Indo-Fijians own most restaurants, stores and services, and there seems to be a disagreement about who's not getting a fair shake.
Because our hotel is four km. from the beach we decide to sign up for a day boat ride. A bus picks us up at 8:45 am and the 18 tourists and ten crew from the boat spend most of the time on an uninhabited island boat singing, snorkeling, kayaking and eating barbeque. That's the paradise part I was talking about. We even join in on a traditional Fiji Kava ceremony. Kava is made from a root and is mixed with water. You clap your hands once, shout "Bula" and drink from a coconut shell. It has the same significance of passing the peace pipe only instead of smoking a communal pipe you're drinking diluted wallpaper paste from a communal coconut cup.
Ah, paradise! But I keep thinking, "What'd I do to deserve this?" It feels surreal. Hmmm, it must be that Midwest upbringing. I come from Kansas farmers whose creed was work hard, don't spend too much, be thankful for little pleasures, and work hard. Somehow island life doesn't fit this belief system. The island mantra is "take it easy, enjoy life, no hurry."
But actually that's only on the surface because many people here work six days a week, long days. Natani not only picked us up at our hotel, but he was the tour director on the boat, played the ukelele, posed for pictures, made sure we knew where the life jackets were, took us out for a snorkeling experience, helped cook the lunch and made sure we got on back to our hotels by six pm. A long day.
We also just completed a long day. We went to the airport on Thursday, February 1st at four pm. We boarded the plane at 10:20 pm. Somewhere over the Pacific we set our clocks back 19 hours as we took the ten hour plane ride to Los Angeles. Then after a three hour layover, we boarded another plane for home. Two and a half hours later we land in Seattle. It was February 1st, 6:30 pm. So that means we landed yesterday earlier than when we boarded. BULA!
We're in paradise but we're not totally comfortable with it. For one thing, we're just not used to being waited on. We've gone from over twenty-five days of sleeping in a tent or a camper van to a hotel in Fiji with lots of staff, a free shuttle from the airport and a modern room with a balcony. We feel self-conscious. For one thing there's not a lot of tourists at the Hotel Mercure, and we worry about how much to tip. "Tipping isn't expected in Fiji but if the service is particularly good, it's appreciated," according to the Lonely Planet guidebook. And we think it's appreciated because business is slow. Whenever we step out of the hotel three people ask us if we need a cab.
"No, Vinanka, [one of two words we've learned in Fijian], we're just taking a walk." And we go down the street to a small dark store and buy instant noodles for breakfast. The hotel has a breakfast buffet every morning but it cost $30 each! They fix all this food, and I only see a few people down in the dining room every morning.
Business is slow because just last month there was a military coup. "Don't worry, there are coups in Fiji every few years and they're always bloodless," an American on the airplane from L.A. told me. He'd married a Fijian woman, and he shared his point of view of the conflict. A few hours later another American who volunteers on an organic farm near Aukland three months every year gave me another perspective.
In Fiji, you see two cultures: the people who are descended from Polynesians and Melasians who settled there centuries ago and the Indo-Fijians descended from East Indian contract laborers brought in to work the sugarcane fields by the British who had colonized the islands. Now the Indo-Fijians own most restaurants, stores and services, and there seems to be a disagreement about who's not getting a fair shake.
Because our hotel is four km. from the beach we decide to sign up for a day boat ride. A bus picks us up at 8:45 am and the 18 tourists and ten crew from the boat spend most of the time on an uninhabited island boat singing, snorkeling, kayaking and eating barbeque. That's the paradise part I was talking about. We even join in on a traditional Fiji Kava ceremony. Kava is made from a root and is mixed with water. You clap your hands once, shout "Bula" and drink from a coconut shell. It has the same significance of passing the peace pipe only instead of smoking a communal pipe you're drinking diluted wallpaper paste from a communal coconut cup.
Ah, paradise! But I keep thinking, "What'd I do to deserve this?" It feels surreal. Hmmm, it must be that Midwest upbringing. I come from Kansas farmers whose creed was work hard, don't spend too much, be thankful for little pleasures, and work hard. Somehow island life doesn't fit this belief system. The island mantra is "take it easy, enjoy life, no hurry."
But actually that's only on the surface because many people here work six days a week, long days. Natani not only picked us up at our hotel, but he was the tour director on the boat, played the ukelele, posed for pictures, made sure we knew where the life jackets were, took us out for a snorkeling experience, helped cook the lunch and made sure we got on back to our hotels by six pm. A long day.
We also just completed a long day. We went to the airport on Thursday, February 1st at four pm. We boarded the plane at 10:20 pm. Somewhere over the Pacific we set our clocks back 19 hours as we took the ten hour plane ride to Los Angeles. Then after a three hour layover, we boarded another plane for home. Two and a half hours later we land in Seattle. It was February 1st, 6:30 pm. So that means we landed yesterday earlier than when we boarded. BULA!
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