USA Trip (Part 2)

3. Don’t Even Think About Walking

On our trip over Christmas, Blake and I decided to do a little shopping while in Nashville. The mall is less than 2 miles from Blake’s parents house, but took 20 minutes to drive to with the Christmas season traffic. Another 15 minutes was spent searching for a parking space, which we finally found at a strip mall a block away. It was freezing out, but we decided to make the short walk rather than waste more time finding a better spot. After making our way through the parking lot to the road, we realized that there was no sidewalk. We walked along the edge of the road and as we crossed the entrance to the parking lot, we were honked at by a car waiting to turn in. Despite the fact that pedestrians have the right of way, this guy felt the need to lay on the horn and give us a dirty look. Nevermind that we were out in the cold and he was in his comfortably heated car, we should have had the courtesy to let him go ahead of us.

From there, the quickest way the mall (and really the only way) was the adjacent Kroger parking lot that ran from street to street. Again, there was no sidewalk or pedestrian area and traffic was heavy. It was literally like playing Frogger just making our way through to the other street. When we got to the other side, a busy four-lane road stood between us and the mall. No crosswalk. Our options were to walk a long way up or down the road to one of the stoplights and then back down the other side to the entrance. We decided to wait for an opportunity to cross which finally came although we were forced to sprint across to make it in time. All this just to get from one block to the next.

I wish this experience was abnormal in the States, but most places you go on a day-to-day basis are just as difficult to maneuver on foot. Even when you’re within walking distance, it’s generally not very pleasant or even feasible to do so. Take where we used to live in Charleston (James Island) for example. There were two groceries, several stores, and a coffee shop within a quarter mile (if not less) of Blake’s place; but walking was hardly an option. No sidewalks for half the way forced us to walk in the grass on the edge of a ditch beside the road before making our way along a busy highway and through a massive parking lot to get to the stores. Miserable. The problem in most of the States is that nothing is designed with walking in mind. it's as though nobody ever considered that somebody might actually walk somewhere. The lack of sidewalks and tendency of stores to be separated from the road by enormous parking areas destroy any chance of a nice stroll to the store.

I never realized just how bad this trend is in the States until I moved to Australia. Don’t get me wrong, Sydneysiders are extremely reliant on the car, a lot of people drive instead of using public transport, and there is a lot of traffic. The difference lies in the fact that in the vast majority of places, the car takes a back seat to the guy on foot. For example, the no frills suburb of Chatswood a few miles north of the city has hundreds of stores including two huge malls, several franchises, big retailers, etc. On the inside these malls are just like what you find in the States, but on the outside they are totally different. Chatswood (like most neighborhoods in Sydney) is basically designed like Main Street with stores on both sides that front the sidewalk. Better yet, half of the street is pedestrian only with outdoor seating, street vendors, fountains, live music, etc. One of the malls, despite being a relatively recent development has its main entrance on the pedestrian only area, and rather than destroy the old neighborhood feel, it blends right in with the other stores on the street. Car access is in the rear, parking is underneath, and both are out of sight. It makes all the difference. The dependence on parking is also reduced by the fact that a train line and several bus routes that drop people off at the top of the street eliminating the need for everyone to drive there. Suburbs, more appropriately described as neighborhoods, are like that all over Sydney. There is always a pedestrian friendly cluster of shops where people can buy everyday goods without having to jump in the car and drive to the nearest big-box grocery or mall. Even in small towns where they have built a giant Woolworths Grocery, they stick it at one end of “Main Street” so that it is still part of a walkable downtown.

Blake and I didn’t have a car the first year and a half we were here, and we would still be happily without if my new job didn’t require it. I now park my car on Friday afternoon when I return from work and don’t touch it again until Monday morning. Why would I, when the alternatives are catching a ferry across the harbor, taking the train, or walking across the Harbour Bridge into the city. Gone are the days of worrying about that extra glass of wine with dinner or not being able to find parking. Takes away so much stress on a night out.

I can honestly say one of the best experiences I have had since being abroad is not having a car for nearly two years and not needing one. You never realize just how much stress owning a car and driving everywhere causes you until you don’t have to do it. Trust me on that one. Sadly, in most parts of the States it’s simply not an option to sell the car and buy a comfortable pair of shoes. It has to be one of the most unfortunate elements of American culture.

Trip Home (Part 1)

Returning to the States

Having been in Australia now for a year and a half, I have grown quite accustomed to life here. Things that used to seem so foreign and different have now become routine and ordinary. It took a trip back to the states for me to once again see some of the differences, both good and bad, between here and there.

1. The Land of the Free

If you ask an American and an Australia what is the first thing that happens when you sit down in a Mexican restaurant, you will get two totally different answers. The American answer is obvious: “free chips and salsa.” A Mexican restaurant without it wouldn’t last a week. An Australian, on the other hand, would probably just give you a confused look and think you were asking them a trick question. That’s because there are no free chips and salsa here (a tragedy, I know). In fact there is no free anything at any restaurant here, or in most other countries I have visited during my travels.

I’m sure the cultural trend of providing free stuff in the US started as a way to stand out among the competition. Whether it was giving away chips and salsa, bread before a meal, or refills on drinks, it must have worked because over time nearly every restaurant in the States does it. It has not only become something that people expect, it has essentially become a requirement. I must admit that I had forgotten, or never fully realized in the first place, the extent of this trend in the US until our recent visit.

We were on the road the first week of our trip and pretty much ate out for every meal. During this time we were absolutely floored at the amount of free food that was thrown our way. From the bottomless chips and salsa to bread at dinner to a basket of muffins, pastries, and danishes at breakfast, we were in heaven. Not so much because it was free, but because it was an unexpected treat for us. The icing on the cake was one night in Boston when we went out with friends to a nice Italian restaurant. Aside from the bread, we were also given a giant antipasto platter before the meal, and individual servings of tiramisu for dessert. Unbelievable. Only in America.

2. Sports

I’ve been a die hard sports fan since before I can remember, and growing up my family rarely missed a home a game at Commonwealth stadium or a Friday night game at Danville’s Admiral Stadium. If there was a Kentucky basketball game on tv, I was watching it, and I can tell you exactly where I was when Laettner hit the shot, or on one of those two great Monday nights in early April of 1996 and 1998. Kentucky is without a doubt a basketball school, but it has always been football that means the most to me. Surprisingly, it took a sport I care nothing about for me to remember why.

On our recent trip to the States we found ourselves in Boston, New Hampshire and Maine during the Stanley Cup Finals when the Bruins were attempting to win their first championship since 1968. From Bruins jerseys on nearly every statue in Boston to cheering fans at every pub in the northeast, the atmosphere was fantastic. Having been in Australia for over a year and a half, I have been deprived of so many sporting events like college football in the SEC, Super Bowl Sunday, March Madness, or even the Stanley Cup.

Don’t get me wrong, Australians love sports, but it’s just not the same. With less than 1/10^th of the population of the US, there are simply not enough people to rival the massive sporting events in the states. For example, rugby league is the sport of choice in Sydney and there are approximately 10 teams in and around the city. By contrast, Miami has the same population as Sydney but no more than one professional team in any sport. At a Rugby League game you might find 10,000-20,000 fans - impressive considering how many different teams are in the area- but what you won’t find is 60,000-100,000 fans at stadiums all over the country every Saturday. You won’t find towns shut down for gameday, and most importantly you won’t find tailgating.

I have been craving that big-game atmosphere; however, both of my trips home from Australia have unfortunately fallen outside of football season. I never in a million years thought that hockey would quench that thirst, but it did. Being able to be watch and soak up the atmosphere surrounding games 5, 6, and 7 of the Stanley Cup in and around Boston as they won their first title in over 40 years was fantastic. It made me remember just what it is that I love so much about sports and that the event itself is often more important than whatever game is being played. Being a part of a crowd all pulling together for their team and celebrating a win is hard to beat, no matter what the sport.

On a side note, as I’m writing this, I’m watching my Cats get destroyed by the Gators. Maybe I’m not missing so much after all.

Couponathon

If you’ve ever been to Australia (or read my previous blog entries), it’s no secret that it’s a pricey place to live. We were warned before we came, but you really have to be here for it to sink in. Some things are not overly expensive relative to the US, but if you want to go out to eat, have a few drinks, or take a vacation, it will cost you. To be fair, I must say that wages here are really, really good (double in some cases), and working in Australia will allow you to do the things you want to do. Nevertheless, the sticker shock hits hard, and in a country that closely resembles the US in so many ways, the prices were our most difficult adjustment.

Of course, we were not about to move to a new city/country/continent and sit in the house to save a buck, so our first few months consisted of some weekend tabs that were hard to swallow. However, it all changed when my wife fell victim to what can only be referred to as Coupon Mania! Blake's addiction to Coupon started rather innocently when she signed up for Jump On It, a company offering “daily deals” for restaurants, hotels, haircuts, massages, and so on. Most of these deals are offered at less than half, if not a quarter, of the actual cost. A 3-course dinner here, a haircut there, and bike rentals at the beach all seemed pretty harmless. Before I knew it though, she was hanging out in the dark, seedy alleys of the internet getting her fix from dealers named ourdeal, livingsocial, groupon, scoupon, voupon, ozbargain, loveitup, shareon, cudo, spreets, whypayfullprice, and on and on. The “deals” were piling up so fast we hardly had time to use them all. I mean, who can pass up a 3-course feast for two with a bottle of wine for $39? Not Blake. That would even be a deal in the States. And so it was...spending money to save money.

Our weekends started filling up with sailing lessons, lunch cruises, and nice dinners all over town. I was slowly getting sucked into the coupon lifestyle. Before long, things were getting out of hand, and I found myself searching for deals offering counseling for coupon addiction to no avail. As our using intensified, we noticed that some restaurants were treating us like second-class citizens. Advance bookings were required but some restaurants had severely limited the number of coupon bookings allowed each night. It was like trying to redeem airline miles, and I couldn't help feeling a hint of shame as I handed over our printed voucher after a great meal. Nevertheless, it was going to take a lot more than mistreatment and shame to stop the addiction.

A typical email chain between Blake and I became,

Blake: Look at this great deal to Norfolk Island! 3 nights accommodation with water views, free dinners, and a bottle of wine upon arrival only $299! Can we, can we, can we!

Ben: That’s awesome! We should totally do it!

Blake: Should I book it, or can you do it?

Ben: I’m on it!

(A couple minutes went by…my finger a mere centimeter away from clicking the confirm payment button)

It was at this moment I caught myself thinking, where the @*%& is Norfolk Island? Is that even in Australia? Do I even want to go there? It was then I realized we had a problem. Our couponing had become like a trip to Wal-Mart that results in buying a bunch of stuff you don’t need because it’s a such a “good deal.”

We hit rock bottom when we attempted to redeem our voucher to Bar Baba Fusion in Leichhardt, the Italian center of Sydney. We had been dying to dine in this neighborhood for months, and here was our chance. The only problem was that our coupon was not for an Italian dinner. Not even close. Blake had managed to score us a voucher for a Tandoori Platter and a Scotch. Yes, you read that right. There we were making the difficult journey on public transportation to the “Little Italy of Sydney” for Scotch and an Indian dish at a seafood fusion restaurant. I’ve been more excited for a trip to the library. Upon arrival, we thought we were at the wrong place. There were no Indian dishes on the menu, much less a Tandoori Platter. We had not made a booking, but the restaurant was empty. Phew! The feeling of relief was short lived, however, as the owner quickly informed us we could not redeem our voucher without a booking, despite the apparent lack of business.

After making our disgruntled exit, we found a nice Italian restaurant and finally had the proper Leichhardt experience we had been looking for in the first place. Moral of the story: cheaper is not always better. The coupon can at times be more trouble than it’s worth, and we have since learned to be a bit more discerning about which ones to buy.

In reality, the daily deals have provided us with numerous great experiences and led us to places/neighborhoods that we would not have previously known about. We recently used a voucher for several nights at a 5-star rainforest lodge in the tropical region of Queensland near the Great Barrier Reef. The package included a day trip to the reef, wine, breakfast, dinner and was without a doubt one of the best travel experiences I have ever had. An offer for a Nepalese Banquet down the street finally motivated us to have our friends come to our neighborhood for the first time. Another voucher for all-you-can-eat (a non-existent concept in Australia) ribs led to another gathering of friends. We have had really great meals at restaurants we would have never found otherwise, and I got to try sailing and stand-up paddle boarding for the first time thanks to the daily deals.

I’m not sure how long the coupon fad will continue, but I’m pretty sure we will ride it to the finish line. Just no more Tandoori Platters with a side of Scotch.

***Update: While proofreading this blog entry, Blake called to notify me of an amazing offer on Ourdeal. I kid you not. A three-night stay on Heron Island with all meals included and free boat transfers from the mainland for less than 1/3 of the actual cost. Heron Island (pictured below) is an amazing destination, but the only resort is normally very expensive. We literally spent two hours last night researching a trip to Heron Island before coming to the disheartening conclusion that it was not within our budget. And now it is. I take back all the negative things I said above. Coupon…I love you!

Best Time of Year

Ahhh……March Madness. A time for me to fall behind on work, review my bracket to the point of memorization, setup two computers next to the TV and watch three games at once, wake up at 3:00 am for some phantom cheering while mastering the soft tiptoe landing ensuring I don’t awake the neighbors during celebratory leaps from the couch, and annoying the crap out of my wife with incessant talking on how Jorts may be the most surprising tournament hero since the days of Cameron Mills.

Yes, the first two rounds of the tournament are indeed my favorite four days of the year. Unless of course Kentucky loses, which turns one of those great afternoons into the worst day of the year. There is no other sporting event that even comes close to bringing me the same level of joy as March Madness.

But how is this excessive enthusiasm and love for basketball received in Australia? During a recent conversation, okay rant, with a co-worker I uttered something along the lines of, “Did you see those games this weekend! I nearly hit my head on the ceiling when Brandon Knight hit a second game winning shot; can you believe we knocked out the number one seed! And what about VCU making the elite 8, Duke getting knocked out, and Morehead St. taking down Louisville! I mean, sure, my bracket is totally screwed, but who cares! It doesn’t get any better, does it? And how lucky is Kansas to be able to reach the finals without playing a single team higher than an 8 seed! Who would have thought Butler could make a second straight Final Four? Isn’t the tournament just the best thing ever….don’t you think….it’s great right…….”

The response……“What’s a bracket?”

And so it is. My obsessive discussion of basketball will have to be directed to those on the other end of Skype and my wife when she is willing to tolerate it. I definitely miss gathering with fellow Cats fans during this time of year, but I’m lucky to be able to watch every game live from the other side of the globe. Thank you technology. And thank you Brandon Knight for putting us one win away from that Final Four appearance that has eluded us for 12 years. Go Cats.

Maybe I will be able to convert a few Aussies to college basketball fans while I’m here. After all St. Mary’s, a team with 5 Australian players, upset 2 seed Villanova on their way to the Sweet 16 last year. Until then, March in Sydney will be known as the start of footy season where teams like the Rabbitohs, Eels and Sea Eagles begin their journey towards a Telstra Premiership victory. And who knows…after my return to the States, maybe I will one day find myself waking up at 3 am to watch the Rugby League Grand Final.

A Few Reasons I Love Fiji

I have not posted a blog in ages, and unfortunately I’m way behind. If anyone is still reading you deserve a pat on the back. I had written most of this second post on Fiji two months ago, and I finally got around to finishing it after our second trip to Fiji. After this, however, I plan to write about things currently happening. That is, of course, if I don’t get derailed by procrastination and laziness.

After two trips to Fiji, I have compiled a short list of what I love most about Fiji.

1. Relaxation - Blake and I tend to spend our vacations running from one place to another and trying to see as much as we possibly can. While this makes for exciting journeys, it does not create a relaxing vacation. And then there is Fiji. Upon arrival at the outer islands, you have no choice but to take it easy. There are no cars, no roads, no condos, and no high-end beachfront homes. Unless you’re on one of the few islands with a Fijian village, there are generally no houses at all. Numerous islands are uninhabited, and the ones that are inhabited still feel deserted. Some islands have a handful of resorts, others have only one. Resorts are all inclusive out of necessity as you generally have nowhere else to go. If there are other hotels on the island, the only way to get there is a long hike or a boat ride. Not worth the effort when you can relax in an open-air sand-floor restaurant/bar footsteps from your bure. An ambitious day might be hiking to the top of the island for a breathtaking view, kayaking in shallow clear water, or taking a day trip to snorkeling paradise. Not exactly high stress.

2. Invalid Passport......No Problem - Just to set the record straight......I’m an idiot. About two weeks before Blake, Ross and I travelled to New Zealand I realized that one of the entry requirements is that your Passport is valid for three months after your planned departure. My Passport expired on Feb. 15 2011, and we were not planning to depart New Zealand until Dec. 12. This realization sent me spiraling into a heightened state of panic that one would only experience after.....say....dropping your keys in an elevator shaft or dropping your phone in a bucket of paint. I have done both. But those are different stories altogether. Anyway, after a couple days of researching and freaking out, I luckily discovered a loophole allowing me to enter New Zealand with my current Passport. So what does this have to do with Fiji? Well, less than two weeks after this terrible experience I booked two flights to Fiji from the United States without even checking the visa requirements. Who makes that mistake twice in one month? Within hours, it hit me that Fiji may have an entry requirement similar to that of New Zealand. And, they do. But worse. The loophole I found in New Zealand does not exist in Fiji. I looked at every, and I mean every, possible way to renew my passport before our trip to Fiji-I even considered flying to a Passport agency in Chicago while home for Christmas to have it renewed on the spot-but nothing was going to work. As a last resort I called the airport in Fiji, explained my situation, and begged for an exception. The lady on the phone proceeded to tell me that “it would not be a problem.” This should have brought a great sense of relief, but I was still worried that I would not be allowed to get on the plane in Los Angeles without meeting the proper travel requirements. My request for something in writing to present to the airline in LA was met with this response, “we cannot provide anything official in writing, but don’t worry. If there is a problem, just have the airline call us.” Right.....I can just picture myself at the front of a long line of chaos that is LAX telling the overworked, irritable, unsympathetic airline agent, “It’s cool, everything is ok, just call Fiji.” In the end, I managed to convince the Fijian Immigration to send me an email-and it was a very basic unofficial looking email-stating I would be allowed into the country. It wasn’t enough to put me at complete ease, but it was as good as it was going to get. We thought we were flying from LA to Fiji on Air New Zealand, but luckily for us, the flight was operated by Air Pacific (the Fijian airline). In typical Fijian fashion, they were laid back about the Passport issue, and the email was enough to get me on board. Upon arrival, I still could have been denied entry and forced to fly back to the US. Instead, I don’t even think they noticed the Passport issue. Just a quick swipe and a “Bula” and I was on my way.

3. An Air Pacific New Years - Fiji is on the way from the US to Australia, and it generally does not cost much more to stop there for a few days on the way. However, we were travelling around Christmas, and the only day that was affordable was December 30. Travel time is 24 hours and you cross the date line just east of Fiji. In our case, we reached the dateline at about 3:15am on December 31st, which meant that it instantly became 3:15am on January 1, which meant New Years Eve did not exist for us. We had hoped the airline would do something on the flight to celebrate, but our expectations were pretty low. Much, much lower than what actually ensued. It was announced when we boarded the plane that we were going to celebrate the New Year according to the time in Fiji (roughly midway through the 11-hour flight). So about halfway through the flight, when most people were sleeping, they flipped the lights on, turned on some music, began handing out wine to anyone who would take it, and started dancing down the aisles. The flight attendants were leading a Conga line while throwing baby powder everywhere. One of the male flight attendants even dressed in the traditional Fijian female attire* and had a dance off with one of the other flight attendants. The party went on for 45-minutes to an hour, and we were loving it. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that the same scene did not unfold on the United flight that night.

4. Snorkel heaven – When I have managed to put off relaxing long enough to venture out into the shallow waters of Fiji, I have had some amazing experiences. On both trips to Fiji, we took a quick boat ride out to the most beautiful snorkeling spot I have ever seen. A tiny sand spit comes out of the water and the surrounding area is extremely shallow and sandy. You could literally walk a few hundred yards in some directions and not even be up to your knees. The shallow area is fringed by a spectacular reef of snorkeling heaven. The first time we went, the place was fairly crowded with boats and other snorkelers, but on our second trip we were the only ones. This, of course, made me worry that there was some underlying reason for the absence of any other tourists….something along the lines of deadly animals spotted in the area. Go ahead…laugh at Mr. Cautious, but as mentioned above, safety is not really a concept understood by most Fijians. Nevertheless, the opportunity to be alone in such a pristine highly visited reef is not to be taken for granted so we jumped in, deadly animals or not. The scenery was as I had remembered excluding roughly 100 neon clad, flailing, underwater camera toting, soon to be disappointed there pictures didn’t turn out as good they had hoped tourists. I guess I probably shouldn’t make fun of other flailing tourists, as this seems to be my primary underwater behavior. At least according to my wife. At one point, while following Blake, I came to the conclusion that the coral she was swimming over was a bit too shallow for my liking. As I slowly turned back in the other direction, I suddenly found myself in a pants-ruining situation. A mere 10 feet away, and looking in my direction, was a reef shark. Thankfully, the snorkel prevented the highly effeminate scream that would have otherwise alerted anyone within a 17-mile radius that a pansy was in trouble. At this point, I should have watched the shark until it was out of sight enjoying the rare opportunity to see it up close. This is not, however, in any way, what I did. I turned and immediately fled as fast as I could over the coral I had previously decided was too shallow. It wasn’t, and I cleared it with relative ease-further proving my lack of underwater courage-before finding a sandy area to stand up in. The surrounding coral was very shallow on three sides, and the only path back to the boat was right back towards Mr. Shark. It was at this point, I decided to spend a few minutes freaking out. After some deep rhythmic breathing and reassuring myself that reef sharks are nothing to be afraid of, I managed to continue snorkeling with Blake before eventually making it back to the boat, where I of course boasted of my heroic encounter with the “giant man-eating shark.” What a badass!

5. Surf Breaks – On my first trip to Fiji, I spent the first few days with my friends Ap and John. John and Ap like to surf, and as a result, my first day in Fiji got off to a much earlier start than I would have liked. At roughly 7:30 am, after a quick breakfast and a rather long session of applying sunscreen, we hopped on an aging beat-up aluminum boat captained by a sparsely toothed local named Kini, who surprisingly spoke little English. The best surf breaks in Fiji are on the offshore coral reefs, and they are only accessible by boat. The good thing about a reef break is they produce consistent, and in Fiji’s case, massive waves. The bad news is that if you fall in the wrong spot, you have a great shot at “getting trapped on the inside” of the break and being repeatedly smashed by successive waves into the shallow and sharp reef below. Not a pretty site. Kini included, there were 10 of us on the boat, none of which seemed to be expert surfers. An agreement had been reached to surf one of the smaller breaks and avoid the notorious Cloudbreak, home to an annual professional surfing competition. John had impressively surfed-or at least dropped into a wave before quickly getting the hell out of there-Cloudbreak the day before, and he was not going back. An instruction to take the boat to one of the smaller breaks was met with a somewhat confused look from Kini and roughly this response, “You want big wave. Cloudbreak is best.” Seemingly unable to grasp the fact that nobody felt comfortable subjecting themselves to the fury that is Cloudbreak, Kini steered us in that direction.

Allow me to momentarily digress and note that danger, or rather safety, does not seem to be a part of the Fijian mindset. For example, the motor was generally left on when people were getting on and off the boat right next to the engine. Gas tanks on our boat-and on most small boats in Fiji-consist of two large plastic jugs in the back of boat with a tube siphoning fuel to the engine. What about life jackets you ask? No chance in hell.

Approaching the massive Cloudbreak from the rear would strike fear in all but the most expert of surfers, much less those on board our rickety boat. A giant viewing platform protrudes from the middle of the Ocean near the break. During professional competitions it is used by judges; however, on most days it simply serves as a reminder that this is one serious wave. If I could describe the immense power of the waves breaking in front of us, I would. I can’t. Underneath a transparent display of courage, there was a sense of fear amongst the surfers entering the water. As for me, my mind had long been made up that I would spend the day on the boat painfully attempting conversation with Kini. My only fear was getting a sunburn. John and Ap had planned to surf the smaller breaks but wanted no part of the big one, so at is turned out I had some company on the boat. One by one the rest of our group swam towards the edge of the break, where they gathered and waited for quite some time. The break shifted and we were unable to get a clear view our group in action, although I’m not sure there was a whole lot to see. As they drifted back to the boat some time later, it was reported that everyone had at least attempted to drop into a wave or two. Only one had been trapped on the inside, and although the most confident at the start of the day he was clearly rattled by the experience. He had only managed to reach safety after being pounded by several waves. Luckily, everyone returned without injury, and most importantly they could all claim to have surfed, or at least attempted, one of the world’s best surf breaks.

6. Fijians – Fiji is a gorgeous place, but by far the best part is the people. Their friendliness seems genuine and their pride in their culture and heritage is obvious. Enjoying life and keeping things simple definitely rank way ahead of material wealth. One great memory of the Fijians that I have was from our first trip. At 4:00, as was posted on the chalkboard, it was time for Volleyball. Most of the guests were doing their own thing, mainly lounging around and taking it easy and the only participants in the game were the staff. And I mean all the staff. If we had needed anything urgently (which you never do in Fiji), you would have had to pull somebody out of the game. You would think that “volleyball time” would become an annoyance for the staff that probably do it every day to entertain the tourists. In reality, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a group so excited about anything. So there we were; a bunch of tourists on vacation-a bunch of workers in their daily routine, and the people at work were having the most fun. Oh…to live the life of a Fijian. On our second trip we met our possible our favorite Fijian, Abbo. Abbo was our Kava Circle leader as well as our guide on an early morning hike to the top of Malolo Island, the biggest island in the Mamanucca chain (Abbo is pictured on the left at the top of the island). Throughout both activities, he told us all about life in his village, and I never got the feeling that it was just part of his job. It was this kind of sincerity that really made our time in Fiji so memorable.

* For some reason Fijians apparently like to dress up like the opposite sex. This was learned the hard way when Ap, John, and I were forced, and I mean forced....we didn’t go willingly, to put on traditional female attire and participate in the cross-dress party at our hostel on Mana Island. Good news is that everyone staying there had to do the same. Bad news is that we had to dance one-by-one down in front of everyone else there while being judged on our moves. And yes, it was as bad as you’re imagining.

Bula! (Part 1-Mainland Fiji)

In our time here we have discovered many amazing places in Australia; however, one of the best things about our new home is the proximity to a place they call….Fiji. Having spent the majority of my life 10,000 miles away from the South Pacific, I have always considered Fiji as one of the most exotic destinations in the world. There is no doubt that the further away a destination is the more enchanting it seems. For example, Australians think of the Caribbean as much more exotic than Fiji. In America, the opposite is true, and Fiji has always been high on my list of places to see. However, Fiji has always been out of my reach as a flight from the States costs $1,500 or more and takes roughly 24 hours. When I realized that direct flights from Sydney are only four hours and can cost less than $400, I had no choice but to plan a trip.

The perfect opportunity presented itself when my friends Ap and John decided to visit in August. Ap came to Sydney for about a week before the two of us left (on separate flights) to meet John in Fiji. Arriving at the Nadi (pronounced Nandi) airport, I am pleased to discover that customs are as laid back as you might expect in a place like Fiji. From the time I touch down to the moment I step out into the warm Fijian sun is literally ten minutes. That even includes a stop at the ATM, where I happily receive two Fijian dollars for each U.S. one. As instructed by my handy guide book, I haggle briefly with the cabbie, and I’m quickly on my way to the Rendezvous Surf Dive Resort. Keep in mind the word resort is used rather loosely in Fiji (and, at times, in Australia for that matter). Within two minutes of leaving the airport, we are on a small two-lane highway that feels more like a country road. No big city to drive through and no airport traffic. I love Fiji already.

Driving south of Nadi, we pass a colorful Hindu temple and a few local buses apparently shipped via time machine from the 1960s. Excluding the windshield, bus windows in Fiji are completely removed to cool off the locals crammed into the seats. I imagine this to be quite inconvenient when driving down one of Fiji’s many dust-clouded dirt roads, or even worse, on a rainy day; however, the Fijians don’t seem to mind. After 20 minutes in the cab, we turn down a rocky, dirt road and wind our way for miles through sugarcane fields until we make a stop at an unmarked gate, presumably my destination. Either that, or the field where they take unsuspecting tourists to play a game of give me your wallet. Fortunately, after a minute or two, the gate is opened by a worker, whom I’m pretty sure had been sleeping in a truck, and I am happy to find myself in the right place. The Rendezvous is an interesting resort to say the least. For starters, nearly everyone-myself excluded-who stays there falls into one of two categories; surfers from all over the world looking for cheap accommodation near the legendary reef breaks, and Japanese students/families who live there temporarily while learning English. The Rendezvous, which feels more like summer camp than a resort, is centered around an open air, rustic dining room/lounge and deck overlooking the water. The resort is run by a friendly and laid-back Fijian (I’m not sure there is any other kind) named Nico, who is also more than happy to hand out beat downs over at the Ping Pong table. After several games of Ping Pong and as many local brews, we are introduced to an age old Fijian tradition, the Kava circle.

A large rectangular mat made from Pandanus leaves is laid on the deck, and we all gather round to watch the preparation of the Kava. A fine powder ground from the root of the Kava plant is mixed with cold water in a large wooden bowl and strained with a silk cloth. The result is a brownish liquid with mild sedative properties. If by some chance, you have missed the memo to kick back and relax and you still have shoes on, they must be removed while sitting in the Kava Circle. There is; however, no age limit as evidenced by the four Japanese kids across from me. After the preparation is completed, a halved coconut used as a communal cup is dipped into the Kava and the drinking begins. For several individuals-John included-this is not the first time at the Kava circle, and I quickly learn that before each person takes a drink I am to loudly say “Bula” (the Fijian equivalent to Aloha) in unison with the others in the circle, and clap three times in a slow rhythmic fashion. As John finishes his cup of Kava-which is to be done in one large drink-we say Maca and clap twice. This process is repeated for everyone, staff included, at the circle, and as my turn comes, I get my first taste of the Kava. The earthy flavor and at times gritty texture of the Kava is followed by a slight numbing sensation on the lips, and although not exactly tasty is not as bad as it sounds. Of much greater concern, is the fact that all 15 of us are sharing the same cup, and that same cup is being used to stir the remaining Kava. Not exactly sanitary, but if ever there is a time to let your worries (and germophobia) go, it is now. After everyone has a drink of Kava, we relax and talk for awhile, and then at no specific time it is decided to start another round. And then another one. This goes on until the big bowl of Kava is gone leaving behind a feeling of relaxation, which-in all fairness-has as much to do with spending an evening amongst old friends enjoying the hospitality and traditions of the Fijian people as it does with the Kava itself. As I make my way back to the room on a warm evening beneath a thousand stars and beside the seas of the South Pacific, I find myself slipping into that wonderfully peaceful frame of mind…Fiji time.

Things You Didn't Know

In one of my previous blogs, I listed several common perceptions Americans have about Australia. Some of them are fairly accurate, and others are way off. In this post, however, I thought I would focus on things you don’t know about Australia (or at least that I didn’t know before coming here). I may have mentioned some of these things in my previous posts, but rather than go back and read the entire blog, I will take the risk of repeating myself.

1. Australians love to abbreviate words – We had read about this before coming to Australia but had no idea just how prevalent this trend is. If there is any possible way of shortening a word, you can bet the Aussies have figured it out. For example: breakfast = brekky, Woolworths = Woolies, Mackers = McDonalds, footy = football, sunnies = sunglasses, swimmers of bathers = bathing suit, esky = cooler, gents = mens bathroom, and of course barbie = barbecue. For the most part, these abbreviations are fairly logical and you can usually tell what they’re referring to. On the other hand, a few abbreviations require translation such as ‘arvo’ which means afternoon. I’m not sure exactly why the Aussies love to abbreviate so much. Some Aussies claim that its laziness, but I prefer to think of it as a product of the laid back, relaxed culture.

2. One big Vegas – You can literally gamble anywhere and everywhere in Australia. I have yet to find a pub that doesn’t have an entire room filled with ‘pokeys’ (the equivalent of a slot machine) and a wall of TV’s dedicated to horse/dog races. The gambling areas are usually somewhat hidden in the back of the pub, so they won’t jump out at you when you first walk in. But believe me, behind some door and somewhere nearby, there is some gambling going on. In addition to the Pokeys and the races, one can also legally bet on any Aussie sporting event. Rather than waste your time looking for a bookie, just jump on one of the websites that are commonly advertised on TV. That’s right, TV commercials for sports gambling sites. If you need to know the line for the game, don’t worry, it will be displayed on the TV broadcast before the start of the game. Despite the limitless opportunities to gamble, it doesn’t really seem to be a huge problem here, and most of the Aussies I have met don’t gamble at all.

3. Aussie Sports – This one deserves an entire post of its own, and one day I will get around to writing it. Until then, I will give you a brief rundown. Rugby, Cricket, and Aussie Rules Football (AFL) are the major sports in Oz. Cricket has lost popularity in the modern era, and I only feel the need to say one thing about this ridiculous game. The typical version of cricket has matches that last for 5 days. 5 days!!!! As if that’s not bad enough, the two teams can play for all five days and have the game end as no result. I don’t mean a tie, I mean no result. It goes down in the books as if the game were never even played. I challenge you to find anything more absurd than that. Good luck. The two dominant sports here are rugby and AFL. At some point, most of you have probably seen rugby on TV, but I doubt you have ever even heard of the AFL. It originated in Melbourne, and according to most Melbournians, it is THE sport in Australia. Sydney on the other hand prefers the National Rugby League (NRL), which is a slightly different version of traditional rugby. Depending on where you find yourself in Australia, or who you’re talking to for that matter, “footy” refers to either rugby or AFL or even soccer. As an outsider being exposed to numerous different sports all at once, this can be quite confusing. On top of that, there are two versions of rugby played in Australia, each with a different set of rules. I won’t go into further detail for now, but expect a lengthy post on Aussie sports in the near future.

4. Less Censorship – When compared to the United States, there is much less censorship in Australia. For one, news broadcasts show much more graphic images than do those in the States. Nudity is far less taboo, and on the front page of the Sydney Herald a couple months ago was a picture, albeit very small, of two topless women. The article was a protest of some sort, but the fact that the picture made the front page was quite surprising. In addition, there are several nude beaches in the area. Completely unedited reruns of the show Entourage are shown on the Arena channel, the equivalent to the USA channel, and four-letter words on any TV or radio program are much less likely to get beeped out.

5. Minimum Wage – The national minimum wage in Australia is $15.00/hour. Sure this results in having to pay a bit more for things, but there are some very positive side effects. For example, people have more pride in their jobs and are not as bitter as they would be if they were being paid, say…..$7.25/hour. Why does this matter? A good way to put it into perspective is a comparison between two well known establishments: Wendy’s and Chick-Fil-A. I will assume you have been to both. If not, turn off the computer, stand up, and immediately go treat yourself to a Frosty and a chicken biscuit. Mmmm…..chicken biscuits. And get some fries to dip in your Frosty. I know, it sound gross, it's not, it's good. Really good. Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, on one hand you have the Wendy’s in Charleston where the Frosty machine is always “broken” after 9 pm, which is code for we already cleaned it because we want to get the hell out of here. And there was that one time when my request for ketchup was met with the response “We out.” No apology, just a tone that seemed to say “I couldn’t care less if you want ketchup, and how dare you even ask.” Then there is Chick-Fil-A where, despite the long lines, your food is ready before you can get the money out of your wallet, and it is always served with a smile. Chick-Fil-A has created a better work environment by providing higher wages for management roles as compared to Wendy's. All I’m saying is that a little extra pay makes all the difference in the world. Workers are happier, and it gives the customer a much more pleasant experience. Not to mention the fact that it creates a society with a lot less people below the poverty line. On the other hand, at $7.25/hour, a full-time employee working 52 weeks a year would only earn $15,080/year before taxes. No wonder they’re so bitter.

6. Parliamentary System – The Australian form of government is very similar to England’s, and I won’t bore you with all the details on how it works. Not that I actually even know all the details. Anyway, the one item worth mentioning is the fact that specific leaders are not elected, but rather a party is voted into power. During an election, the party leader is certainly marketed like a candidate would be in the states, but your vote is for the party, not the Prime Minister. The big difference is that the Prime Minister can be replaced at any time by their own party. And that’s exactly what happened to the former Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, in June of this year. On the evening news I heard that one of the cabinet members, Julia Gillard, was forcing a leadership ballot to possibly replace Rudd. I figured that like anything in politics it would take months to sort out. I was wrong. At roughly 2:00 pm the next day, Australia had a new Prime Minister. Just like that. Out of nowhere, and literally overnight, we had a new Prime Minister in Australia and the first female one in history. Another unique thing is that there is no specific date for an election, and it is decided on by the party in power. Therefore, when their popularity is strong they can call an election. Makes no sense.

7. Politically Correct? – The Australians are not exactly what you would call politically correct, at least not when compared to the States. For example, on most city buses the symbol for a handicapped person is not the seated stick figure in a wheelchair you are used to seeing, but rather a man whose leg is missing at the knee. To indicate a crossing frequented by the elderly, you might see a sign of a man hunched over with one hand on his back and the other on his cane. These symbols are not meant to be disrespectful in any way, but are rather a product of a more laid back and less sensitive culture. If people took offense to it, I’m sure they would change it, but nobody seems to mind or even notice. Oh yeah, and then there is this....
Blake has also informed me that the word "poo" is often used during official presentations at her lab. It's good to know that the scientific community has decided to go with a third-grade word instead of say...fecal sample. Another example of the Aussies lack of political correctness is an incident involving Harry Connick Jr. last year. Connick was invited to be a guest star at a 10-year reunion of a sketch comedy show called Hey Hey it’s Saturday. I did not see the show, but apparently one of the skits was a parody on the Jackson Five. The characters painted their faces black for the skit, and Connick, who was obviously offended said, “If they showed up looking like that in the United States, it’d be Hey Hey There’s no more show.” Needless to say, the cultural differences were quite apparent.

8. A Young Country – As of the year 1900, Australia was still under British rule. It wasn’t until 1901 that it actually became a nation. Until then, each state basically functioned as autonomous colonies, and in many ways they still do. Some public holidays are different in each state. Only a portion of Australia observes daylight savings time, so depending on which time of year it is Sydney is either 2 or 3 hours ahead of Perth. Oh, and the Central Standard Time is only 30 minutes behind the Eastern Standard Time. Where it really gets strange is when you look at the railroads in Australia. Historically, each state used a different gauge (width) for the railroads, meaning that trains in one state would not function on the rails in another state. Cargo travelling across the country would have to be offloaded from one train and loaded onto another at state lines. Only recently have most of the gauges been standardized; however, it is still an ongoing process. Some rail lines are not functional to this day because of varying track widths.

9. Meat Raffle - The concept of a raffle is certainly nothing new. In the States, you see them quite often. There are generally a wide variety of prizes including electronics, a gift certificate, a bar tab, or free food. The Aussies, however, do it differently. Instead of giving away a free meal at a restaurant, they raffle off the "meat tray," an assortment of raw steaks, sausages, lamb chops, etc... Some of you may have seen this before (I hear they do it in Minnesota) but it was certainly new to me. Who raffles off a big tray of raw meat at the bar? And who wants to carry raw meat around all night? But it could be worse. In some areas of Australia, they have taken it up a notch and raffled off an entire living cow. I don't even know what to say about that.

10. An Over Dependence on Cutlery - Australians seem to eat everything with a knife and fork. Such a prim and proper behavior seems at odds with typical Australian culture, and must without a doubt be a remnant of its British heritage. I mean, where else in the world can you walk shoeless into a coffee shop and draw no attention, but then stand out like a sore thumb for using your hands to eat a muffin. I think the epitome of this phenomenon occurred during our first few weeks in Australia. Seated at the table next to us, and on what appeared to be a first date, was a young couple eating chips and salsa with a knife and fork. Really? How is that even possible? I know one thing though, this guy would feel right at home in Australia.