Revelation: I’m a bus whore.

Yes, it’s true. I get on a bus, any bus, anytime, anywhere and I’m gloriously happy. Ridiculously happy. I’m even happy waiting for the bus. At the bus stop on the side of the road or in a busy station or under a tree. Anywhere, anytime, I am there and I am happy.

Once I board, the delirium usually continues, even with a intermittent sore ass and knees that are bruised the following day from being wedged against the seat in front of me- a hazard of traveling in countries full of short people. Though the island Fijians are large in all ways (many women are both bigger and taller than me), so this doesn’t make sense really. I can tell a lot from a country on the bus. When I ride a local bus, surrounded by people on their way home or to a wedding or whatnot and I’m the only white person, I feel so alive.

After four days, three nights on Nananu-I-Ra island off the northern tip of Viti Levu (the largest Fiji Island- there are more than 360 total), I started to feel claustrophoic on such a small island filled mostly with Australians. I was starving for local interaction, so I caught the boat back to land and then a bus to Suva, (pop 390,000) the largest city in Fiji and the also the largest in the Pacific Islands.

At the bus stop, I met a local Brahman Indian-Fijian boy in his early 20’s who had lived in Wellington for a while. He was wearing a black t-shirt with “Edmonton” embroidered on it. I asked if he’d been to Edmonton. He said, “No, but I’m moving there on the 30th of May.” He was moving with his sister and brother-in-law to run a takeway business in Banff. He pointed out his sugarcane farm on the hill behind us. I asked what his mom and dad thought. He said, “That’s my mom,” pointing to the lady in glasses and a yellow sari across from us who’d been smiling all along. “She has to stay six more months for the harvest and then maybe she and my younger brother will come. My dad passed away four years ago.”

After about an hour‘s wait, the bus finally arrived. It was the express bus but it still took over three hours to get to Suva. Some roads were dirt and several bridges we drove over were small wooden plank things, just wide enough for one vehicle and no guard railing.

I sat next to Linny and her mom. They were coming home from her cousin’s wedding. Linny was born March 14th, 1971 in Fiji. She had a 22 year old son. She pointed out the village where she grew up (pop 100) and then the village that she was “married to.” She was married eight years ago. She and her mom both had small afros. Linny wore a red polo and denim skirt and carried a pink lettered handbag, Her mom reminded me of a black Grandma Agnes. It was the facial expression. She was a lady of purpose, but had tan Fossil gemstone-rimmed sunglasses that matched her tan patterned dress. After a few hours on the bus, one of the mom’s brothers got on. Shortly after that, they were waving out the window to one of her sisters who was in a van on the side of the road. It’s a small island.

Linny and her mom got off a few stops before me. As did the Indian boy and his mom. His mom patted me on the shoulder as she walked down the aisle and waved from the side of the road as we drove off.

The bus came into Suva from above and at first sight, it reminded me of Auckland. A harbour town, ocean all around. We pulled into the bus station and I struggled to get my pack off the bus as the driver made a snide comment about it. (He is the only not-nice person I have encountered.) After I practically fell out the door of the bus, I stopped to get myself loaded up. Two Fijian men tried to help me haul my stuff in a wheelbarrow but I declined saying I was just getting on another bus. They kept asking questions and told me I was beautiful. Then I realized I was a blonde girl in a sea of dark. I’d forgotten the extra sort of help you get in that situation.

I wandered off, asking a local girl, “Where is the bus to Sawani?” She pointed. I said, “Ok, over there?” I must’ve looked confused, because then she said, “I’ll take you.” “Are you going that way?” I asked. “No, but it’s ok.” I got led quite a ways and dropped at my bus. I said, “Thank you” and she was off, wishing me a good trip,

So Fiji… it’s different. Interesting. Not remote. Full of it’s own culture and life. I have three more days of exploring before I set foot on the plane back to North America. Prepare the red carpet, I’m coming home!

Hei!

Hi All-
It's Carrie. I just wanted to let you know that Sara is alive and in Fiji with pretty much no access to phone or internet til the 23rd. So....no exciting blogs til then. After that she'll be back in the states. :)
Yay!

Last night in Auckland

Tomorrow I fly out to the islands. Woe is me.

I called Fiji today to make a reservation at a hostel there. The lady on the phone said, "There'll be someone waiting for you at arrivals with our name on the sign, but before you come through, could you pick something up for us?"

Huh? I thought. "Uhh, okay?" What is this all about?

"Could you pick up a bottle of Fiji Bounty Rum? It should be about $19 a bottle. Just bringit to the front desk when you check in and we'll reimburse you for it."

"Okay, sure." I guess if this is a joke, then I'll just have to drink the rum myself. I'm sure I could handle it.

This is the first time I'll be bringing rum to my hotel. I wonder if they'll sell it back to me at a higher price?

In other news, I completed my New Zealand Taxes today. It took about five minutes, in comparison to the two days that the US taxes take. I did, however, have to call the IRD three different times to get it done. But here you can actually talk to a real person after only about 2-5 minutes on the phone. It's quite amazing.

The rest of the day was spent wandering, visiting my favorite cafe, walking along ponsonby road and chatting with travelers in the hostel.

Tomorrow I fly out at 1:00PM. I'll be sad to leave Verandahs Hostel. It's one of the best in New Zealand. I think if I'd have discovered it sooner, I might have tried to be a longer term resident here. It's quite the place.

Au Revoir, Kiwiland! I'll see you in my dreams.

Please fix me

I spoke with a doctor in the states today about a posting for an associate optometrist. It was apparent from the start of the call that he wasn't really interested, but we continued the conversation since it had been started. In the end, he was really looking for someone who was married, maybe with kids, who'd want to settle down and become part of the community. He said that.

I don't know why a single person is considered such a reliability risk and a single woman even a worse risk. I guess she's likely to get married and knocked up and move away, since women always just do what their husbands want. I'd like to have someone conduct a study and note whether single people do, in fact move more, stray from jobs sooner, or suddenly become impregnated by artificial insemination when they'd not even been thinking of it.

I'd say that we single people are the number one nemesis of planet earth. If we weren't all wandering the world, flying on planes, trying to find ourselves, would there truly be global warming? Nah. It's our fault!

What else is our fault? Too much drinking and tottering home to buy McDonald's in the middle of the night. I hazard a guess that's probably keeping those fast-food joints open and contributing immensely to the rising global obesity rates.

I'm going to keep thinking here.

I'm tired of the world pointing a finger at me because I'm not married. It's been going on since I became single at the age of 28. Years of people telling me, Mr. Perfect will be the next one through the door. Don't worry, you can always adopt. How come you're not married? As if I have a disease to be cured.

That is the end of the rant. There is nothing (drastically) wrong with me that needs to be fixed, other than my haircut. Hah.

I'M COMING HOME!

Flight Schedule: (purchased today, Wednesday the 13th)

Fri May 15
Depart Auckland 13.00 Arrive Fiji 16.00; Air Pacific 410; 3 hours
Staying at Bluewater Lodge (a boutique backpackers)

Sat May 23
Depart Fiji 10.00 Arrive Los Angeles 13.20; Air Pacific 810; 10:20 hours
Staying at Brian Schultz Hotel

Sun May 24
Depart Los Angeles 06.00 Arrive Portland 08.20; Alaska Airlines 561
Staying at Carrie & Oatie Schultz Hotel