This morning I met up with some business folk for our return meeting for 2010. Dressed in ultra casual wear, Fiji style. Sandals and all I told them all where I've been.
Then I heard the story that summed up Fiji for me. One of the guys asked, "You ever heard of the Fijian fisherman?"
Everyone replied "No" as if you say "go on".
A Fijian man laid down, resting in a hammock with a fishing line hanging off his finger heading out to the sea, when a businessman who was visiting saw him and was curious about what he was doing.
As he got closer he realised the Fijian was fishing. The businessman asked the Fijian, "What are you doing?"
The Fijian man replied "Fishing".
The businessman said "You can't just sit here all day and fish.... you've gotta get out there, make some money. Get a net, catch lots of fish, make more money, buy a boat, catch more fish, make more money, hire a crew and get them to run the boat, catch all the fish and make more money. Then you can sit here and fish all day."
The Fijian man looked at the businessman and said "But I'm fishing all day now without doing all that stuff."
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Happy with nothing
You'd have to agree when I tell you, people are happy with nothing.
My recent trip to Fiji only reminds me of this fact, as most of the people can't afford a loaf of bread and resort to begging or stealing.
Yet, while speaking to a local, he struggles, but he is happy. He wouldn't trade what little he has for one day of my life back here in Sydney. He's happy with what little he has. He has nothing to lose. He has no cares, worries or hindrances other than waking up, working during the day to feed the family at night, and it repeats itself over and over again.
Compare that to a local here in Sydney. We do exactly the same thing. Go to work, earn something to support our family, come home to dinner and go it all again tomorrow. So where's the difference?
We have the new car, the flash TV, laptops, new homes, wants.
The last point is probably the biggest one. Wants.
Because we're conditioned to give in to desire. We see it on TV (which is probably why I don't watch it). We see it in magazines, hear it on the radio, hear about it from friends.... keeping up with the Jones' as they say.
When you look at any country that is considered poor, and I hate that word, "Poor". I think that these countries are rich. Their values are rich. It's all about family, providing and helping each other out. There are exceptions, a few desperate souls who snoop to stealing and begging. But under the circumstances, you can see why, and you accept it.
However, everyone has the same opportunity, the same chance to make something of what they have, regardless of how much or how little they have. It's not about how much resources you have, but how resourceful you are.
Some will look at this and say you're compromising. Others can look at it and say you're just making do. Either way, if the result is the same, who cares?
I tell you who.... Us. The consuming population. The guys like me who love their gadgets, love flat screen TV's. But I'm a man of contradictions. I'm a hypocrite. As much as I love all these devices, the bells, the whistles. I also despise them. I dislike them. I can do without them.
Family in Fiji were shocked that I left my laptop and mobile phone at home. I told them. I'm here, I'm switched off. And I can stay that way for years. I know I can. But since I have the choice not to. I'm here on my laptop, writing more thoughts and already thinking about my next blog entry.
Does this make me happy. Well, it offers me comfort. But I wouldn't say it makes me happy. When I sat there listening to the local Fijian bloke talk about how his life is hard, but simple. He wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world. I sat there green with envy.
However, one thought crossed my mind, and while speaking about migrating to Fiji to the wife on the plane, she had the same feeling too. What would be do there? We also dislike the total anti-pride in work that everyone does. No one seems to care if something is done write or wrong. It's done, now can I leave to go home and drink?
The Fijians, while hard workers, are lazy. The Indians (a high number of them live there), are hard workers, but they are Indian, and if you've been to India, read or heard about it, there's the way the rest of the planet works, and there's how India works. There's a TED talk on it, and it's from an Indian who says that how they work is very different to the entire planet. It's true, and if you're not accepting of it, it'll drive you mad.
Much like driving in Fiji. Westerns seem to tell me they hate it, it's chaos. I always tell them I love the chaos. I love the overtaking on the wrong side of the road. I love the lack of indicating. It's like driving in Italy, but slower. Since everyone is so lazy, the speed at which they drive at is too. It's faster to walk through town, but driving through the chaos is more fun. And since you're only crawling along, but still making good pace, you get to places, you push and shove otherwise you'll end up at the back. You'll have cars and busses on your side of the road because they'd rather run over your car than hit that huge pot hole that seems to cover every single street in the country.
But I've really digressed now. These people are happy with nothing. And if you look at other countries with similar lifestyles, South America, Africa, you'll see that the people there are some how better off. Better off with life. Compare that to a millionaire and you'll see that while they might be showing a smile, I bet it hides a mountain of worries. Worries of losing their millions, their possessions. They lifestyle.
While I'm no millionaire. As much as the Fijian lifestyle appeals to me, I'm not going to lie and say I'll do it now. In fact I'm not sure I have the guts to change over to that at all. I'm not doing to lie and say I'd do it. I'd more there for a happier life. I am hypocritical, but I'm no liar. I might move there. One day my wife and I might genuinely get fed up with paying off our mortgage, paying endless bills, trying to keep up with the Jones', trying to buy the latest TV or iPhone or whatever. I know I'd be happier. But can I let go? The answer is, no for the moment. I can't. But I know I must. And when that happens, you'll hear about it.
Happy with nothing. I'm sure this works.
My recent trip to Fiji only reminds me of this fact, as most of the people can't afford a loaf of bread and resort to begging or stealing.
Yet, while speaking to a local, he struggles, but he is happy. He wouldn't trade what little he has for one day of my life back here in Sydney. He's happy with what little he has. He has nothing to lose. He has no cares, worries or hindrances other than waking up, working during the day to feed the family at night, and it repeats itself over and over again.
Compare that to a local here in Sydney. We do exactly the same thing. Go to work, earn something to support our family, come home to dinner and go it all again tomorrow. So where's the difference?
We have the new car, the flash TV, laptops, new homes, wants.
The last point is probably the biggest one. Wants.
Because we're conditioned to give in to desire. We see it on TV (which is probably why I don't watch it). We see it in magazines, hear it on the radio, hear about it from friends.... keeping up with the Jones' as they say.
When you look at any country that is considered poor, and I hate that word, "Poor". I think that these countries are rich. Their values are rich. It's all about family, providing and helping each other out. There are exceptions, a few desperate souls who snoop to stealing and begging. But under the circumstances, you can see why, and you accept it.
However, everyone has the same opportunity, the same chance to make something of what they have, regardless of how much or how little they have. It's not about how much resources you have, but how resourceful you are.
Some will look at this and say you're compromising. Others can look at it and say you're just making do. Either way, if the result is the same, who cares?
I tell you who.... Us. The consuming population. The guys like me who love their gadgets, love flat screen TV's. But I'm a man of contradictions. I'm a hypocrite. As much as I love all these devices, the bells, the whistles. I also despise them. I dislike them. I can do without them.
Family in Fiji were shocked that I left my laptop and mobile phone at home. I told them. I'm here, I'm switched off. And I can stay that way for years. I know I can. But since I have the choice not to. I'm here on my laptop, writing more thoughts and already thinking about my next blog entry.
Does this make me happy. Well, it offers me comfort. But I wouldn't say it makes me happy. When I sat there listening to the local Fijian bloke talk about how his life is hard, but simple. He wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world. I sat there green with envy.
However, one thought crossed my mind, and while speaking about migrating to Fiji to the wife on the plane, she had the same feeling too. What would be do there? We also dislike the total anti-pride in work that everyone does. No one seems to care if something is done write or wrong. It's done, now can I leave to go home and drink?
The Fijians, while hard workers, are lazy. The Indians (a high number of them live there), are hard workers, but they are Indian, and if you've been to India, read or heard about it, there's the way the rest of the planet works, and there's how India works. There's a TED talk on it, and it's from an Indian who says that how they work is very different to the entire planet. It's true, and if you're not accepting of it, it'll drive you mad.
Much like driving in Fiji. Westerns seem to tell me they hate it, it's chaos. I always tell them I love the chaos. I love the overtaking on the wrong side of the road. I love the lack of indicating. It's like driving in Italy, but slower. Since everyone is so lazy, the speed at which they drive at is too. It's faster to walk through town, but driving through the chaos is more fun. And since you're only crawling along, but still making good pace, you get to places, you push and shove otherwise you'll end up at the back. You'll have cars and busses on your side of the road because they'd rather run over your car than hit that huge pot hole that seems to cover every single street in the country.
But I've really digressed now. These people are happy with nothing. And if you look at other countries with similar lifestyles, South America, Africa, you'll see that the people there are some how better off. Better off with life. Compare that to a millionaire and you'll see that while they might be showing a smile, I bet it hides a mountain of worries. Worries of losing their millions, their possessions. They lifestyle.
While I'm no millionaire. As much as the Fijian lifestyle appeals to me, I'm not going to lie and say I'll do it now. In fact I'm not sure I have the guts to change over to that at all. I'm not doing to lie and say I'd do it. I'd more there for a happier life. I am hypocritical, but I'm no liar. I might move there. One day my wife and I might genuinely get fed up with paying off our mortgage, paying endless bills, trying to keep up with the Jones', trying to buy the latest TV or iPhone or whatever. I know I'd be happier. But can I let go? The answer is, no for the moment. I can't. But I know I must. And when that happens, you'll hear about it.
Happy with nothing. I'm sure this works.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Fiji time
It's a beautiful thing if you can appreciate it. But then again, you already see the beauty in anything if you appreciate it. For if you didn't, you wouldn't think of it as a beautiful thing at all. Fiji is one of those places.
I've seen it on both sides of the coin. The resort style living where tourism brings in a heap of money into the economy. I've also seen the real side of Fiji. The side most of my wife's brothers live in. Dwellings with one bedroom that the entire family share. Families that can't afford to buy bread, so resort to stealing it or begging for it.
It's not all doom and gloom. The people are partly like this because they are truly lazy people. I don't blame them either. The heat we lived through slowed me right down. I pretty much crawled everywhere I walked. And the places I drove to, or more realistically got driven to because I didn't hire a car this time around was at a crawling pace anyway.
On a particular night I was chilling out with my brother-in-law I met a friend of his, who is actually the ex-husband of his wife's sister... did you get all that? Well, he asked me what I did, and I have made it a goal for me to ask the same in return once I spill the beans on my career and personal life to a stranger who asks me. When I did, he told me he's a vehicle import/export agent. And he is soon relocating to Japan, invited me along and said I'll love it. He doesn't know me well, but he picked that. Japan is a place I have thought about visiting on many occasions.
Japan will have to wait for another day. In the mean time, Fiji is nice and close, and for once on our travels to the airport, our taxi arrived to pick us up from our home on time. Every other time we've booked a taxi, it has never shown up or turned up with 30 minutes for us to get on a plane, us stressing out because the trip to the airport takes 45 minutes. This taxi driver turned up before our arranged time and was friendly, got us to the airport on time and wished us a good trip.
Taxis in Fiji are funny. All the cars are pieces of shit. They rattle, shake and rattle some more. The smoothest of roads isn't enough to stop the rattling. And since their meters don't function properly they just pull a figure out of the air when you ask them how much it costs to get to a certain destination. While you often think you're being swindled, when you convert their dollar to yours and factor in the distance to travel between villages, it's all worth it in the end. But on this occasion when we went through customs and got out of the airport, my wife's brother was waiting for us, with the van running and the air-con on. What a brother.
Getting through customs in Sydney on the other hand was my usual event. Each time I go through the place, I get held up for something. Last time was something I forgot. A camping spoon. Considered a weapon, thanks to 9/11. A spoon! This time around I got called over to a guy checking for bombs. Why me? Because, I have to always get called over for something. The guy handed me a letter I have to read and verbally agree to which discusses things like me accepting the fact that I might get asked to strip off and be examined outside and in. I agreed, much like software installation, because if I don't, I don't fly.
They checked my bag for any bomb making chemical residue. They found nothing. Surprise surprise. And my wife and I went on our way to get on our plane.
Arriving in Fiji, you're greeted with a more laid back attitude. Customs smile at you. Then you leave the air-conditioned section once your bags are collected and you go into the heat.
The van was a warm welcome.... err, a cool welcome? We were off to our hotel. We checked in, received decent service and were surprised for that in a place like Fiji. Trust me, I'm not being negative or anything derogatory. But the service in Fiji is pretty much non-existant whether you stay in a roach motel, or a 5 star hotel. Ours was a 4.5 star hotel. However, Fiji-afied, it was more like a 3 star place. Which kinda sucks because you're paying 4.5 star prices.
We did have a choice of staying with my brother-in-law but decided it would be better if we hotel it so we didn't intrude, and we could be a bit more free to head out and do our own thing when we want.
The next morning the girls went out, shopping. What else? Us boys went to pick up 7 tables and 40 chairs from the party hire place as the main reason we went to Fiji was because of my brother-in-laws daughters first birthday. We thought we'd need two trips but made it in one. Once we arrived at the party hire place, I was warned that the girl there is cute and single, and may jump on us. He was right about the first two parts. The third part was only a day dream. She was pretty cute.
We arrived at the house to offload the party gear and set up the PA sound system, when we got there the tent hire people were there and preparing to set up the bigtop. I call it a bigtop because once it was erected, you could see it from miles away. It was about 25m X 10m in an oval shape. It did well to keep out the hot sun, but unfortunately did a decent job of breaking the wind too and it was a nice breezy day. Luckily towards the end of the day the sun dropped into the sea and the breeze picked up a bit more, we all sat around drinking, playing cards, telling jokes, laughing at nonsense and general chit chat about nothing in particular.
I was hungry again, so I ate a bit more. Everyone else thought it was a brilliant idea and followed suite. The night was over and while we sat around chatting some more, some other mates turned up. One of them was the guy I mentioned above who offered me a place in Japan. I didn't get his number, but I know who's got it and he knows I'll be getting it off them.
We caught a taxi back to the hotel that night for $40. Not bad considering our taxi ride home from the airport this afternoon cost $45 and was half the distance. We got out the taxi and the first thing the porter at the hotel said was "Where did you get that bag?". Pointing to the Pure Fiji soaps and bath gels that I really like. I told the guy it was a gift. He interrupted with "You know we have a Pure Fiji outlet right here". So I repeated, "It was a gift from family. I didn't buy it. If you have a retail outlet selling them then maybe you should speak to your boss about advertising the fact in the documentation you get next to the telephone in our room."
The fact was, there was no information about the hotel in our room. We weren't sure what the hotel had and were really never there long enough to investigate. We didn't know about the services or restaurants. It didn't really matter, but it pissed me off a little when the guy told me all about them like I should have known.
"But this is Fiji", I reminded myself, and everything was okay again. The next day we did absolutely nothing at all. We stayed in the hotel, relaxed and read our books until the afternoon when we were to meet the relatives at one of the backpacker resorts they own just outside of Nadi (pronounced Nan-dee). We hung around, walked on the beach. Swam in the beach, of which the water was hot. Not warm, but hot. It cooled down the further out you went. So we hung around in the deeper water until I had enough. I got out, dried off, and then we sat on the beach talking. My wife fell asleep on the hammock and these two guys who were part of the "band" came around after hearing about me and my playing ability. The must have been told from the relatives. I didn't give too much away, so I just said I play a little bass, as this requires no thinking on my part. I just get up and play. They told me they had a drummer and a bass setup. But when we waited around for 3 hours during the power failure, I discovered that it was just them two, singing with an acoustic guitar with a bit of accompaniment from the friend with an electric guitar.
They sounded great. Everyone had left by now so my wife and I decided to eat dinner there. It was highly recommended, but it is a cheap and nasty backpackers resort, so the food wasn't what quality I'd normally eat. But it was food, and in Fiji you can't complain when you eat. Some people don't get to at all.
We headed back to the resort, showered and went to bed. The next morning we spent even more time lazing about the resort. We checked out the eating places, the beauty salon (which my wife rejected upon hearing the crazy price) and we walked around and looked at the rest of the place. I luxuriated in the air-con the rest of the time. I continued reading my book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A frustratingly good book. Frustrating because it goes way over my head with all the words in it, but in the end all makes sense. It truly is a book of values.
The next day we were off to Denarau, the marina where we took a day trip on my wife's brothers boat out to an island the size of an umbrella. I drank and drank, and when we arrived at the island, we drank some more. Then went snorkelling. I took my wife's camera as it goes underwater up to 10 metres without the use of any special and cumbersome casing. We arrived back at the marina in the afternoon and went back to our hotel to shower and change because later that evening we were to be picked up and taken to the Marina in Denarau where my brother-in-laws boat sat. We drank some more, hung out a bit and then went into town in Nadi to eat at a nice Chinese restaurant.
The service, much like everywhere else in Fiji was dismal, but if you expect it, you'll be happy with getting any service at all.... thinking back to my posts about lowering your expectations, or abandoning them all together. The food was okay, the service was slow, but prompt for Fiji. The price of the meals were okay too, though our family paid for it on the sly before we noticed and tried to argue chipping in or paying for the lot.
We were dropped off at our hotel and did some rudimentary packing. I showered and went to bed while the wife stayed up and packed. I let her do it because my packing habits are embedded into my brain from my motorcycling days. I pack light, I fit everything in tightly, not neatly. On the other hand my wife likes to pack things properly. So I figured I'll save the argument and sleep on it. Waking up this morning, we ate what small bits of bread we had in the hotel room that we bought from the bakery the previous day. We did a check up of the place to make sure that we had it all packed. Once all clear, we checked out, caught a taxi to my brother-in-laws who was going to take us to the airport since he was going to see us off anyway. We ended up eating lunch there and then we were off to the airport. I got given a clock I thought was funny earlier that has all the numbers in a heap on the bottom of the clockface, and it just says "Who Cares". The hands move properly. I loved it. The alternative was a clock with all the numbers out of order and it said "Fiji Time".
Fiji time is what we say when things take too long after you've asked for them. Like your meal taking 2 hours, or your brother saying he'll be there at 12, only to arrive at 4 in the afternoon. Fiji time is great. Because it stands for "Who Cares", it stands for "So What", it stands for what I'd like to tell all my clients "No one has a gun to your head". I don't think it's that Fijians don't care. I think it's just their way.
There are exceptions, the taxi we caught to the bro's house was hooking all the way there. overtaking everything at any opportunity. It was almost like someone put some berocca in their V or Red Bull. That, or a chili up their butt. I was trying to show my wife some places I'd been with her brother but they went by so fast that by the time I pointed it out, it was gone.
Into the airport, without a hitch. This time my wife got picked on, which never happens. She was told to put her cream she had in her bag in a zip lock bag or something. Which she did to avoid any complications. We were through, said our goodbyes to the family and went to buy some duty free. I never really like duty free because it's almost like impulse buying. I don't do it. I have all the alcohol I need for a few years, and I supplement that with beer. The good stuff only comes out once in while. Besides that, I don't smoke, so cigarettes are out of the question. The clothes aren't really practical as I don't plan on wearing bula shirts (hawaiian style shirts with flowers all over them) every day. Then I noticed my flip flop. One of them was wonky and I realised that after 8 years of service, the strap was coming away from the hole it was mounted in. At first I figured that they offered me a great deal of service for a number of years. but then looked at them and realised I could at least attempt at super glueing them when I got back home. I'll try tomorrow in the light. No point in throwing out a good pair of thongs just because of a small break.
So, duty free shopping was over, we boarded the plane, told we were upgraded from economy to premium economy. But at the end of the flight I told my missus that I thought economy was actually better, and premium economy was a con job. Her private tv screen kept flopping down, needs tightening and I didn't have any tools on me, once again, thanks to 9/11. We both found the seats to actually look more comfortable but were really less comfortable with our seat of the pants experience.
We arrived without any commotion in Australia this afternoon. Customs didn't pick on me at all. We were out of the plane and out of the airport in about 10 minutes. In a taxi and home in about 30 minutes after that.
And that's our trip in a great big nutshell. Next I'll talk about working in Fiji and the gap between the rich and the poor.
I've seen it on both sides of the coin. The resort style living where tourism brings in a heap of money into the economy. I've also seen the real side of Fiji. The side most of my wife's brothers live in. Dwellings with one bedroom that the entire family share. Families that can't afford to buy bread, so resort to stealing it or begging for it.
It's not all doom and gloom. The people are partly like this because they are truly lazy people. I don't blame them either. The heat we lived through slowed me right down. I pretty much crawled everywhere I walked. And the places I drove to, or more realistically got driven to because I didn't hire a car this time around was at a crawling pace anyway.
On a particular night I was chilling out with my brother-in-law I met a friend of his, who is actually the ex-husband of his wife's sister... did you get all that? Well, he asked me what I did, and I have made it a goal for me to ask the same in return once I spill the beans on my career and personal life to a stranger who asks me. When I did, he told me he's a vehicle import/export agent. And he is soon relocating to Japan, invited me along and said I'll love it. He doesn't know me well, but he picked that. Japan is a place I have thought about visiting on many occasions.
Japan will have to wait for another day. In the mean time, Fiji is nice and close, and for once on our travels to the airport, our taxi arrived to pick us up from our home on time. Every other time we've booked a taxi, it has never shown up or turned up with 30 minutes for us to get on a plane, us stressing out because the trip to the airport takes 45 minutes. This taxi driver turned up before our arranged time and was friendly, got us to the airport on time and wished us a good trip.
Taxis in Fiji are funny. All the cars are pieces of shit. They rattle, shake and rattle some more. The smoothest of roads isn't enough to stop the rattling. And since their meters don't function properly they just pull a figure out of the air when you ask them how much it costs to get to a certain destination. While you often think you're being swindled, when you convert their dollar to yours and factor in the distance to travel between villages, it's all worth it in the end. But on this occasion when we went through customs and got out of the airport, my wife's brother was waiting for us, with the van running and the air-con on. What a brother.
Getting through customs in Sydney on the other hand was my usual event. Each time I go through the place, I get held up for something. Last time was something I forgot. A camping spoon. Considered a weapon, thanks to 9/11. A spoon! This time around I got called over to a guy checking for bombs. Why me? Because, I have to always get called over for something. The guy handed me a letter I have to read and verbally agree to which discusses things like me accepting the fact that I might get asked to strip off and be examined outside and in. I agreed, much like software installation, because if I don't, I don't fly.
They checked my bag for any bomb making chemical residue. They found nothing. Surprise surprise. And my wife and I went on our way to get on our plane.
Arriving in Fiji, you're greeted with a more laid back attitude. Customs smile at you. Then you leave the air-conditioned section once your bags are collected and you go into the heat.
The van was a warm welcome.... err, a cool welcome? We were off to our hotel. We checked in, received decent service and were surprised for that in a place like Fiji. Trust me, I'm not being negative or anything derogatory. But the service in Fiji is pretty much non-existant whether you stay in a roach motel, or a 5 star hotel. Ours was a 4.5 star hotel. However, Fiji-afied, it was more like a 3 star place. Which kinda sucks because you're paying 4.5 star prices.
We did have a choice of staying with my brother-in-law but decided it would be better if we hotel it so we didn't intrude, and we could be a bit more free to head out and do our own thing when we want.
The next morning the girls went out, shopping. What else? Us boys went to pick up 7 tables and 40 chairs from the party hire place as the main reason we went to Fiji was because of my brother-in-laws daughters first birthday. We thought we'd need two trips but made it in one. Once we arrived at the party hire place, I was warned that the girl there is cute and single, and may jump on us. He was right about the first two parts. The third part was only a day dream. She was pretty cute.
We arrived at the house to offload the party gear and set up the PA sound system, when we got there the tent hire people were there and preparing to set up the bigtop. I call it a bigtop because once it was erected, you could see it from miles away. It was about 25m X 10m in an oval shape. It did well to keep out the hot sun, but unfortunately did a decent job of breaking the wind too and it was a nice breezy day. Luckily towards the end of the day the sun dropped into the sea and the breeze picked up a bit more, we all sat around drinking, playing cards, telling jokes, laughing at nonsense and general chit chat about nothing in particular.
I was hungry again, so I ate a bit more. Everyone else thought it was a brilliant idea and followed suite. The night was over and while we sat around chatting some more, some other mates turned up. One of them was the guy I mentioned above who offered me a place in Japan. I didn't get his number, but I know who's got it and he knows I'll be getting it off them.
We caught a taxi back to the hotel that night for $40. Not bad considering our taxi ride home from the airport this afternoon cost $45 and was half the distance. We got out the taxi and the first thing the porter at the hotel said was "Where did you get that bag?". Pointing to the Pure Fiji soaps and bath gels that I really like. I told the guy it was a gift. He interrupted with "You know we have a Pure Fiji outlet right here". So I repeated, "It was a gift from family. I didn't buy it. If you have a retail outlet selling them then maybe you should speak to your boss about advertising the fact in the documentation you get next to the telephone in our room."
The fact was, there was no information about the hotel in our room. We weren't sure what the hotel had and were really never there long enough to investigate. We didn't know about the services or restaurants. It didn't really matter, but it pissed me off a little when the guy told me all about them like I should have known.
"But this is Fiji", I reminded myself, and everything was okay again. The next day we did absolutely nothing at all. We stayed in the hotel, relaxed and read our books until the afternoon when we were to meet the relatives at one of the backpacker resorts they own just outside of Nadi (pronounced Nan-dee). We hung around, walked on the beach. Swam in the beach, of which the water was hot. Not warm, but hot. It cooled down the further out you went. So we hung around in the deeper water until I had enough. I got out, dried off, and then we sat on the beach talking. My wife fell asleep on the hammock and these two guys who were part of the "band" came around after hearing about me and my playing ability. The must have been told from the relatives. I didn't give too much away, so I just said I play a little bass, as this requires no thinking on my part. I just get up and play. They told me they had a drummer and a bass setup. But when we waited around for 3 hours during the power failure, I discovered that it was just them two, singing with an acoustic guitar with a bit of accompaniment from the friend with an electric guitar.
They sounded great. Everyone had left by now so my wife and I decided to eat dinner there. It was highly recommended, but it is a cheap and nasty backpackers resort, so the food wasn't what quality I'd normally eat. But it was food, and in Fiji you can't complain when you eat. Some people don't get to at all.
We headed back to the resort, showered and went to bed. The next morning we spent even more time lazing about the resort. We checked out the eating places, the beauty salon (which my wife rejected upon hearing the crazy price) and we walked around and looked at the rest of the place. I luxuriated in the air-con the rest of the time. I continued reading my book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A frustratingly good book. Frustrating because it goes way over my head with all the words in it, but in the end all makes sense. It truly is a book of values.
The next day we were off to Denarau, the marina where we took a day trip on my wife's brothers boat out to an island the size of an umbrella. I drank and drank, and when we arrived at the island, we drank some more. Then went snorkelling. I took my wife's camera as it goes underwater up to 10 metres without the use of any special and cumbersome casing. We arrived back at the marina in the afternoon and went back to our hotel to shower and change because later that evening we were to be picked up and taken to the Marina in Denarau where my brother-in-laws boat sat. We drank some more, hung out a bit and then went into town in Nadi to eat at a nice Chinese restaurant.
The service, much like everywhere else in Fiji was dismal, but if you expect it, you'll be happy with getting any service at all.... thinking back to my posts about lowering your expectations, or abandoning them all together. The food was okay, the service was slow, but prompt for Fiji. The price of the meals were okay too, though our family paid for it on the sly before we noticed and tried to argue chipping in or paying for the lot.
We were dropped off at our hotel and did some rudimentary packing. I showered and went to bed while the wife stayed up and packed. I let her do it because my packing habits are embedded into my brain from my motorcycling days. I pack light, I fit everything in tightly, not neatly. On the other hand my wife likes to pack things properly. So I figured I'll save the argument and sleep on it. Waking up this morning, we ate what small bits of bread we had in the hotel room that we bought from the bakery the previous day. We did a check up of the place to make sure that we had it all packed. Once all clear, we checked out, caught a taxi to my brother-in-laws who was going to take us to the airport since he was going to see us off anyway. We ended up eating lunch there and then we were off to the airport. I got given a clock I thought was funny earlier that has all the numbers in a heap on the bottom of the clockface, and it just says "Who Cares". The hands move properly. I loved it. The alternative was a clock with all the numbers out of order and it said "Fiji Time".
Fiji time is what we say when things take too long after you've asked for them. Like your meal taking 2 hours, or your brother saying he'll be there at 12, only to arrive at 4 in the afternoon. Fiji time is great. Because it stands for "Who Cares", it stands for "So What", it stands for what I'd like to tell all my clients "No one has a gun to your head". I don't think it's that Fijians don't care. I think it's just their way.
There are exceptions, the taxi we caught to the bro's house was hooking all the way there. overtaking everything at any opportunity. It was almost like someone put some berocca in their V or Red Bull. That, or a chili up their butt. I was trying to show my wife some places I'd been with her brother but they went by so fast that by the time I pointed it out, it was gone.
Into the airport, without a hitch. This time my wife got picked on, which never happens. She was told to put her cream she had in her bag in a zip lock bag or something. Which she did to avoid any complications. We were through, said our goodbyes to the family and went to buy some duty free. I never really like duty free because it's almost like impulse buying. I don't do it. I have all the alcohol I need for a few years, and I supplement that with beer. The good stuff only comes out once in while. Besides that, I don't smoke, so cigarettes are out of the question. The clothes aren't really practical as I don't plan on wearing bula shirts (hawaiian style shirts with flowers all over them) every day. Then I noticed my flip flop. One of them was wonky and I realised that after 8 years of service, the strap was coming away from the hole it was mounted in. At first I figured that they offered me a great deal of service for a number of years. but then looked at them and realised I could at least attempt at super glueing them when I got back home. I'll try tomorrow in the light. No point in throwing out a good pair of thongs just because of a small break.
So, duty free shopping was over, we boarded the plane, told we were upgraded from economy to premium economy. But at the end of the flight I told my missus that I thought economy was actually better, and premium economy was a con job. Her private tv screen kept flopping down, needs tightening and I didn't have any tools on me, once again, thanks to 9/11. We both found the seats to actually look more comfortable but were really less comfortable with our seat of the pants experience.
We arrived without any commotion in Australia this afternoon. Customs didn't pick on me at all. We were out of the plane and out of the airport in about 10 minutes. In a taxi and home in about 30 minutes after that.
And that's our trip in a great big nutshell. Next I'll talk about working in Fiji and the gap between the rich and the poor.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Off on holidays
I'm heading over to Fiji for a week. My wife is going over to see family and catch up. I'll be joining her and relaxing in the shade. Hopefully it's not too humid there. But it is that time of year. However I've been reading up on the current temperatures and it doesn't seem too bad.
I've actually been on holidays for quite a while now. I haven't operated my business in full swing since December and have been using the time to think about a lot of things. A lot of those things have been posted here, so I won't regurgitate. Though I found that the more I have thought about it, the more I'm confused. So I'm going to spend the time in Fiji not doing anything at all, which is what everyone in Fiji does.
If I do anything at all, it'll be trying to find a guitar over there, picking it up and playing some songs we're performing for the theatre play.
That's about all I have planned. Everything else is just added clutter.
See you all when I get back.
I've actually been on holidays for quite a while now. I haven't operated my business in full swing since December and have been using the time to think about a lot of things. A lot of those things have been posted here, so I won't regurgitate. Though I found that the more I have thought about it, the more I'm confused. So I'm going to spend the time in Fiji not doing anything at all, which is what everyone in Fiji does.
If I do anything at all, it'll be trying to find a guitar over there, picking it up and playing some songs we're performing for the theatre play.
That's about all I have planned. Everything else is just added clutter.
See you all when I get back.
Monday, January 18, 2010
My theory of negativity revisited
Quite a while ago I posted my theory of negativity. Though it had more to do with how ones expectations should be low. That way everything turns out a bonus.
But what happens when your expectations are too low? What if you walk around saying to yourself that you'll never get something, or you'll never do something?
Can you have too much negativity? Would it manifest your entire life if you walked around all the time saying that everything is crap and never goes your way? I think so.
While I stay positive most of the time, I'm more alternative. I like to think alternative. It's just that it appears negative in the eyes and ears of the person in front of me because what I say and think doesn't quite agree with what they think. And this is where my theory shines. If the person infront of me expects nothing, then they're more than likely to be happy with whatever response I give them.
My theory of negativity may appear tho wrong way to people, but the crux of it is that it's all about taking any response, any result and any situation and making the best of it. A hint of expectation will lead to disappointment. So, expect nothing.
But what happens when your expectations are too low? What if you walk around saying to yourself that you'll never get something, or you'll never do something?
Can you have too much negativity? Would it manifest your entire life if you walked around all the time saying that everything is crap and never goes your way? I think so.
While I stay positive most of the time, I'm more alternative. I like to think alternative. It's just that it appears negative in the eyes and ears of the person in front of me because what I say and think doesn't quite agree with what they think. And this is where my theory shines. If the person infront of me expects nothing, then they're more than likely to be happy with whatever response I give them.
My theory of negativity may appear tho wrong way to people, but the crux of it is that it's all about taking any response, any result and any situation and making the best of it. A hint of expectation will lead to disappointment. So, expect nothing.
Giving up
While growing up, we're all conditioned to understand that giving up means you're weak. It means you're a quiter. It means you suck at everything. Why? Why are people conditioned to this?
Is it because giving up means you failed? Maybe giving up means you've just had enough. Maybe it means what you're doing isn't working.
I thought about this the other day, having always agreed that giving up isn't a sign of weakness. While I've always thought that I'd drop something that isn't working and come in at it from a different angle, or better still, drop it all together and start something else completely different that may work. It may not work. But you won't know until you try.
I often say a lot of good things. I also say some stupid things. I find that sometimes I offer advice I don't follow. I should, but I don't. Although the last 12 months have been all about practicing what I preach. So far it has worked well for me. I should listen to what I say more often. But most of all, what I say is only drawn from what I've seen around me. It's the stuff I've experienced, the stuff I hear from friends. The problems I face, and they face, or anyone faces. I learn from that. From myself, from others. It's why I love the Internet so much. Not everyone is your friend, but everyone is sharing.
Experience is what draws us a picture. It tells us what to do or what not to do. It can be someone else's experience. As humans we love hearing about other people. I'm forever wondering how someone I met got to where they are today. What did they do? Are they struggling like me? Are they happy with how their life is going? I read a lot of autobiographies. I read a lot of books on people's travels. I read a few business related books that illustrate how one successful person made it to where they are today.
Each one of these areas all have a common ground. All these people suffered a lot, they lost a lot and risked everything to make it. I recently read a book about a country town baker. He wanted to be the biggest bakery in the world. While I don't think he quite made it that far, from reading the book, he is a pretty significant person in Australia who now spends his life doing talks around the world to people about his life. His bakery runs itself..... or more accurately, he has managers and staff who run it for him. But this wasn't easy for him. He gave up 5-6 times throughout his life before finally making it. At one stage in his story, it looked so grim that he held a gun to his head. But realised before pulling the trigger, when he heard his daughter get up out of bed to come over to see him because she couldn't sleep, that his life was in fact worth living and he could try again and do things better this time. And he did.
Attempting to commit suicide is the ultimate choice to give up. I won't even suggest trying it. I haven't. And looking back at my depression from my motorcycle accident, I am always surprised that I didn't even think about it myself when I easily could have. But none the less, giving up allowed him to look at everything and gave him the opportunity to start again, make things better, learn from the mistakes, avoid them this time around. It's a bit like Groundhog Day. You get to do it over and over again until you get it right. Then it's smooth sailing.
So, when people look at me sad and say "That's really sorry to hear" when I've told them I'm dropping my business in search for another. I tell them "It's okay. I've had 7 years hands-on experience on how not to run a business. Now it's time to do the opposite. There's no point in flogging a dead horse. Whip it as hard as you like, you're not going to win any races".
Is it because giving up means you failed? Maybe giving up means you've just had enough. Maybe it means what you're doing isn't working.
I thought about this the other day, having always agreed that giving up isn't a sign of weakness. While I've always thought that I'd drop something that isn't working and come in at it from a different angle, or better still, drop it all together and start something else completely different that may work. It may not work. But you won't know until you try.
I often say a lot of good things. I also say some stupid things. I find that sometimes I offer advice I don't follow. I should, but I don't. Although the last 12 months have been all about practicing what I preach. So far it has worked well for me. I should listen to what I say more often. But most of all, what I say is only drawn from what I've seen around me. It's the stuff I've experienced, the stuff I hear from friends. The problems I face, and they face, or anyone faces. I learn from that. From myself, from others. It's why I love the Internet so much. Not everyone is your friend, but everyone is sharing.
Experience is what draws us a picture. It tells us what to do or what not to do. It can be someone else's experience. As humans we love hearing about other people. I'm forever wondering how someone I met got to where they are today. What did they do? Are they struggling like me? Are they happy with how their life is going? I read a lot of autobiographies. I read a lot of books on people's travels. I read a few business related books that illustrate how one successful person made it to where they are today.
Each one of these areas all have a common ground. All these people suffered a lot, they lost a lot and risked everything to make it. I recently read a book about a country town baker. He wanted to be the biggest bakery in the world. While I don't think he quite made it that far, from reading the book, he is a pretty significant person in Australia who now spends his life doing talks around the world to people about his life. His bakery runs itself..... or more accurately, he has managers and staff who run it for him. But this wasn't easy for him. He gave up 5-6 times throughout his life before finally making it. At one stage in his story, it looked so grim that he held a gun to his head. But realised before pulling the trigger, when he heard his daughter get up out of bed to come over to see him because she couldn't sleep, that his life was in fact worth living and he could try again and do things better this time. And he did.
Attempting to commit suicide is the ultimate choice to give up. I won't even suggest trying it. I haven't. And looking back at my depression from my motorcycle accident, I am always surprised that I didn't even think about it myself when I easily could have. But none the less, giving up allowed him to look at everything and gave him the opportunity to start again, make things better, learn from the mistakes, avoid them this time around. It's a bit like Groundhog Day. You get to do it over and over again until you get it right. Then it's smooth sailing.
So, when people look at me sad and say "That's really sorry to hear" when I've told them I'm dropping my business in search for another. I tell them "It's okay. I've had 7 years hands-on experience on how not to run a business. Now it's time to do the opposite. There's no point in flogging a dead horse. Whip it as hard as you like, you're not going to win any races".
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The pressure's on
Just an update on the project Val and I are working on. No, not the partnership. The theatre play. Well, Val's done all the hard work, I just play guitar. We had a rehearsal last night and everything went really well. I'm meeting up with him again on Thursday to learnt these last two songs that are outrageously difficult to play and I can't seem to get my head around them.
Still though, 7 of the 9 songs are down pat. We're 100% on those songs. Though the pressure is on because the organisation who's now funding the play has booked us a preview gig in 3 weeks time for the 7th of Feb. Then we're playing an open mic night on the 8th of Feb, just for more practice in a public area.
We'll be doing another official preview in March at the Greek Festival in Darling Harbour, followed by the full theatre piece, played at The Vanguard in Newtown. That's the BIG day. But I'm not sure when that is, maybe in May.
If all goes well, then it's off to Greece.
The pressure is on. Val is feeling it. He's got a lot to do now that I told him "I told you so" back in October when we were all relaxed about learning the songs. I told him "It'll creep up on us and we'll say SHIT, it's January already." And guess what? Last night at rehearsals I said to him, "It's not only January, it's almost half way through it."
He looked at me, knew that we had to all pull our finger out and has suggested we rehearse two or three times a week, not just once.
I have my own pressure at the moment, a guy called me from this business for sale I looked at, sounds interesting and now I have to see the books to make sure it's working well. The agent called me and gave me the old trick of "We have someone else interested in the shop space to rent, I'd rather give it to you." I hate it when agents do that, and I usually say "ah well, find me another premises that's similar." I bet they hate that because I call their bluff. I'm not ready to commit to the place yet as I'm still unsure what's to happen with my business. I'm not interested in making rash decisions anymore. I'm making calculated ones, if I've learnt anything.
Still though, 7 of the 9 songs are down pat. We're 100% on those songs. Though the pressure is on because the organisation who's now funding the play has booked us a preview gig in 3 weeks time for the 7th of Feb. Then we're playing an open mic night on the 8th of Feb, just for more practice in a public area.
We'll be doing another official preview in March at the Greek Festival in Darling Harbour, followed by the full theatre piece, played at The Vanguard in Newtown. That's the BIG day. But I'm not sure when that is, maybe in May.
If all goes well, then it's off to Greece.
The pressure is on. Val is feeling it. He's got a lot to do now that I told him "I told you so" back in October when we were all relaxed about learning the songs. I told him "It'll creep up on us and we'll say SHIT, it's January already." And guess what? Last night at rehearsals I said to him, "It's not only January, it's almost half way through it."
He looked at me, knew that we had to all pull our finger out and has suggested we rehearse two or three times a week, not just once.
I have my own pressure at the moment, a guy called me from this business for sale I looked at, sounds interesting and now I have to see the books to make sure it's working well. The agent called me and gave me the old trick of "We have someone else interested in the shop space to rent, I'd rather give it to you." I hate it when agents do that, and I usually say "ah well, find me another premises that's similar." I bet they hate that because I call their bluff. I'm not ready to commit to the place yet as I'm still unsure what's to happen with my business. I'm not interested in making rash decisions anymore. I'm making calculated ones, if I've learnt anything.
