There was a time when catching a taxi meant worrying more about whether you’ll reach your destination on time than, say, the weather.

Times have changed, both figuratively as well as literally. Now, catching a taxi requires that you a) manage to catch a taxi first (‘Where you going?’ ‘Nadera’ *drives off*) and that b) you have change, preferably small, or risk having to get off at your destination and run around asking people for change of $10 because the driver doesn’t have any.

At least this sign clears up any initial misgivings. Totally.

Vinaka @ChristinaFj!

A sight often seen on public service vehicles (but not buses…bus companies tend to frown upon employee’s creative decorations), these vehicle stickers adorn the back of the taxi or minibus, usually accompanied by a barrage of other stickers that fight for your attention (or conspire to cause a rear ender). What’s unique about this particular sticker and the reason why it is this week’s ‘Photo of the Week’  is the fact that the text that accompanies the sticker isn’t meant to be as is.

“Your Text” is a place holder, with the actual intended end tagline to be of the owner’s doing, by choosing from a selection of letters that come with the sticker.

Here’s the kicker: I have not seen 1 sticker with a customized title. Not one. Literally all of the stickers I’ve, with many picture variations (the more popular version being Hobbes taking a piss) all have the same placeholder ‘Your Text’ and left as is. It’s almost as if everyone thinks ‘Your Text’ is as cool as the cartoon image above it, with a meta hidden meaning behind it that can only be understood if you leave the placeholder tagline and act like you meant to to spell it out that way. Or that you actually know what it means, but won’t tell anyone for fear of losing the air of mysteriousness about you.

The education begins now.

BREAKING NEWS (Ok it’s not breaking news, but it’s only to sound like this is a big urgent news item breaking NOW to enhance the sarcasm. So yes this isn’t new, as it happened back in the beginning of November, but just…just – play along will yah? Bunch of kill joys =_=): This just in. Insidious pyromaniacs disguised as traditional dancers tried to set fire to our beloved nation’s ancient heritage, the Fiji Museum!

During Datec’s end of the year party, held in the cement/wooden halls of the museum, the devious fire vandals had tried to burn down the priceless collection of ancient artifacts by repeatedly dropping their fire lit torches onto the semi-varnished wooden floors.

As if the blatant display of arson wasn’t enough, the flaming scoundrels had backup behind the performances, who were hard at work attempting to start their own flame-on with a ready supply of kerosene and grass skirts, handily laid out on the floor.

As the common folk were dazzled by the bright lights and sparks from dropped torches, the vandals in the background were slowly building their fire bit by bit, adding more grass skirts and faking attempts to control the fire by stomping on it to dissuade concerned citizens who started to notice what was really going on.

Eventually the least intoxicated of the attendees noticed that something wasn’t right. But first they weren’t sure if the ‘impromptu’ fire was part of the act, or if they were indeed getting ready to burn it all down. Eventually a few heroic patrons, wine glasses in hand, stumbled in and epically smothered out both the fire and the well laid plans of mice and arsonists present.

While the ‘performers’ pretended it was nothing, continuing their escape ruse by calmly walking out amidst the ensuing chaos, we have irrefutable proof of their devious act.

Police are investigating. The Museum could not be reached for comment, as their lines seem to be down at the moment.

Thanks Franck Martin.

Seen in the Fiji Times Village 6 movie times section is this classic slogan re-worded to suit the reading and comprehension level of the locals.

To reiterate; The slogan for the movie in the above badly pixelated photo reads:

They are the most dangerous killers on the planet but this not our planet.

Boy I sa scared saraga, but the ad heavy I sa want to go watch this movie boy.

We go?

So. Come November 29, Fiji’s getting Dailylight saving.

Hmmm. Not too sure what to make of this. There is much debate on the pros and cons of daylight saving, and how it will affect people’s everday living. Personally, I’m still trying to recall how it affected me back in the late 90s (when was the exact year?) when the government had implemented the same decree. I guess the fact that I can’t quite remember means that it didn’t really cause strife in my daily routine. Of course, I was in college, so aside from study hours being slightly skewed (who am I kidding, what study?), there wasn’t much cause for concern.

These days however, as part of the working force, the outlook may be different compared to my (relatively) easy going days as a college student. Getting up early in the morning means waking up to a strange skyline which (I assume for most people who get up early) by normal hours, should already have the slight tints of dawn. And then there’s the added confusion in the first few days after the magic flash fast forward date, where people will be late for dental appointments, AA meetings and after school beatings all because someone forgot to adjust their time. Factor in most people’s fondness for “Fiji Time”, and you’ve got deadlines that fail at their jobs and rather turn into simple notes in the email your boss sent you about that report you were meant to send 2 hours ago. The boss’s wrath however, will be pretty much on time.

So I’m curious. What do you people think of Fiji’s daylight saving move? Do you think we could benefit from this ‘spring forward’ both economically (Fiji Islands Hotel and Tourism Association president Dixon Seeto says, “more light, more tourists, more money!”)* as well as peace of mind (Fiji Islands Hotel and Tourism Association president Dixon Seeto says, “more light, less robbers, more happy!”)*? Or are you miffed that – holy crap I just came across an article stating that Daylight saving can affect your health and wellbeing. Hmph. I guess that’s a pretty big argument against the whole deal.

There’s a poll! Let us know whether or not you’re with this whole get up an hour early deal or not. And post in the comments if you feel the need to vent/troll/hate/spam.

Comedy, at least island comedy, comes easy to us fijians. When we laugh, you and your neighbour will know something funny went down. When someone slips and falls, we crack up with laughter, victim’s wellbeing second to our failed attempts at catching our breath through tears of laughing. It’s all in good fun, and it comes with being from a country that’s given its own name to describing the slow but fun tropical life. Humour is in our bones.

So you can understand how much I was looking forward to checking out the “Kings of Comedy” event, a stand up show that was organised on the 24th of june by a new events company, Renaissance Fiji, and held at JJ’s on the Park (their site is in serious need of upgrade). $10 for a two hour show sounded like a good deal, especially considering the fact that Suva doesn’t hold much in the way of entertainment such as this. It’s either the movies, the clubs, or home. Or…church. Starved for new forms of entertainment, yes we are.

I was late to the show, arriving just after 6:30pm, and was silently cursing myself for adhering to ‘fiji time’ without actually meaning to arrive late. After all, it’s another very fijian thing for occassions, whether government driven, prime minister attending formal, or your sister’s kid’s birthday informal, to be late, even if everything’s in place. However, upon entering the venue (upstairs on the first floor, and past a phalanx of waiters and ticket checkers) and taking my seat, I realized that the place wasn’t that much full, with only about a quarter of the seats filled. Poor attendance? Turned out that there are some people who believe in extreme fiji time as a religion. For the time being, I felt early.

After my two friends and I parked ourselves under the brightest spotlight in the room (quite by accident I assure you), I took in the scene and the first thing that struck me was that everyone was dressed. As in – just finished from a power business meeting with the shareholders lets go have a laugh and a few beers dressed. I started to feel slightly (alot!) undressed, and with my 3 quarters, t-shirt from the plantation, jacket and flipflops, I was becoming painfully aware of the cool air conditioner breeze kicking up a chill in my legs. Oh well. At least the ticket was free (thanks Allen!).

By this time it was 6:40pm, and nothing had yet started, with most of the seats still empty. There was a lonely dj at the front of the room, seated at a table, playing music with his macbook laptop. The stage was all set up, a small platform at the front of the room, with a stool and a mic stand. Behind it were some lovely curtains drapped on the wall. No side entrance unfortunately. The Original Kings of Comedy this was not. Maybe they should have had it at the Playhouse on Selbourne Street. Now that was a real stage, old creaky floorboards and all.

It turned out that Lambert Ho was going to be our MC for the night. He announced that unfortunately, 3/4 of the group of comedians scheduled to do their sets all got cold feet and disappeared. Apparently, only Alex Elborne and two guys Rupert and James were to be our show for the night, and as an added bonus (or because the duty roster was empty) the floor was open to anyone who felt like they could be the funny guy for a bit. Of course, if there’s one thing about Fiji, it’s that if you’re not 14 years old and below, no one is going to accept an invite onto the stage of any show. Ask Cookie the Clown at the annual showcase.

After stealing a few sips from my friend’s single Fiji Bitter stubby (have you seen the prices at JJ’s? Gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘tourist prices’) and observing the venue fill up slowly, at around 7:10pm, the show finally got underway, with Lambert giving the event an introduction and even having a go at a bit of stand up comedy himself. Then, it was Alex Elborne for the first set. I don’t know Alex personally, but judging from his photos in the Mai Life magazine, I was always under the impression that this was one guy you did not fuck with. As a person who doesn’t listen much to radio, I’ve missed out on his reputed sense of humour, and the descriptions from his friends about how funny of a guy he was just didn’t seem to fit well with his brooding profile pics. He was carrying a few sheets of paper, and had placed them on the stool, making sure page 1 was facing him. Obviously he was nervous, and he let the crowd know that too, a good move to open with, garnering a few laughs along the way.

When he finally did start with his set, he didn’t disappoint. Showing his knowledge of both on stand up comedy as well as local humour, he weaved in and out of stories both familiar and funny, with situations most of us were intimate with, such as growing up with the movies (“how many times did you guys watch the titanic?”), writing love letters that would have impressed Shakespeare but not your english teacher (“your eyes are like big black stones…”) and even of fatherhood (“I’ve always laughed at those guys who wanted to show you pics of their kids. I didn’t want to see your damn kids loser! But…now that I’m a father…” and he sheepishly took out a photo of his daughter). There were many times during his set when I was nearly yelling with amazement, “I remember that!”, and you could tell Alex remembered it too. Because he was drawing on life in Fiji as his source material, his jokes were that much funnier because…well…we know it all too well.

With his set abruptly ended (“err…ok – thats all”), I had high hopes for the next set, and was ready to laugh all over again. However, the organisers had something else in store, with Lambert announcing the Konvick Dance Group performing a dance for the next part. Now, I’m not too familiar with comedy shows, maybe this is the norm overseas, but I felt like I had just been cheated of my momentum for the show. I came here to laugh along with the comedian on the stage, not get all krump and ‘dance movie’. Granted, the 4 part group was good, but somehow it didn’t feel like part of the event.

The dance ended, Lambert took to the mic again and announced that this was going to be a monthly event, with the next show giving the ladies a shot at the spotlight a.l.a. Queens of Comedy. Then it was on to the next set, with Rupert and James making their way up to the stage. Hmm, I thought, two people? I take it we’re going to see a little stage show. Unfortunately, it was not to be, though their routine wasn’t any less funny. They had drawn up a list of points about how you know you’re a kailoma. 20 points in fact. And all of them were once again, hilariously familiar:

“You know you’re a kailoma when your relatives bring beer to your funeral, wedding, or any sort of family gathering.”

“You know you’re a kailoma if your uncle met your aunty at the Dragons night club. Infact, you were all born thanks to your parents meeting up in Dragons night club.”

“You know you’re a kailoma if drama always somehow manages to find you.”

With the two finished, Lambert opened the floor to anyone who wanted to give stand up comedy a try. And again, no one volunteered. Names were called, potentially funny people were pointed out, but nobody even made an attempt to stand up. And so Alex was called up again, an encore performance if that’s what you may call it, and this time, he called upon the help of the Konvick Dance Group. His rountine?

“The different type of dance styles in the local clubs.” Much laughing and cheering ensued, especially when old favourites were displayed, such as… “The fishing line”, “The pointer”, and even “The boxer”. The dance boys were certainly enjoying themselves, illustrating the dance moves with a mixture of familiarity and shyness.

After the little education segment, Konvick was up again for another dance number that started with some pretty cool robot dances, and progressed with a wierd trip hop soundtrack thumping on in the background. On a music related note, the DJ was the cause for much pain and annoyance throughout the night. When I say DJ, I mean ‘guy sitting at front table with mac book laptop’ DJ. The reason why he was so annoying was because when it came to adjusting the volume of the music, he used the keyboard volume control which emitted a loud and head numbing clicking sound. Obviously someone didn’t show him the volume control with the mouse.

The dance number over, Lambert thanked the organiser Renaissance Fiji and JJ’s on the Park for the event, and reminded everyone that there was going to be another show next month, where he hopes to see everyone again. I’m not too eager on attending the next show. A lack of content, the late start, the strange inclusion of the dance group and the abhorrent prices of alcohol makes the upcoming Queens of Comedy a less then interesting notion. The only shining moment in the whole of the show was from Alex’s part, and I would seriously consider forking out $10 if he was going to be in the next lineup (my own money this time ).

Also – they really need to get a new DJ. Or at least use a pc laptop.

Prank calls are the meat and potatoes of radio shows looking for humour without all the hard work of script writing and voice acting. I’ve heard alot of prank calls in my time, but this is the first time I’ve had a chance to listen to one made by a local Indian radio station. Here’s one that’s been making the email circles lately, and is pretty hilarious.

Granted it’s edited voice wise, and most of it is in indian, but if you listen closely to the conversation, you can sort of pick up (for the non-indian speaking readers) the english words scattered in the conversation. Also, halfway through the prank call, the conversation turns to english when the prankster gets transfered to a bored sounding Loans officer.

The real kicker is towards the end, when said prankster starts to get desperate.

Note: Nani: Grandmother

Also, need a translator to transcribe the beginning and end Indian conversation ><

Ah Fiji. Home to the king of rugby sevens, smiling locals, white, sandy beaches, and seasonal coups. It’s quick to get washed up in the hype that is living in today’s fast paced society, but one mustn’t forget one’s origins and what humble beginnings they had before Mcdonalds and company rolled in.

source: NSFW: Hot Girls on Demand lololol

Who wants to go overseas when you have everything you could ever need right here? Who needs fine wine when we can make the most serious head tripping home brew that’ll guarantee your not safety? Who wants to travel in limousine style when we’ve got private cars that’ll spring up to serve your every need whenever a bus strike happens?

However, in the far-fetched scenario that you do indeed need to leave said paradise shores, then getting your passport and countless papers are in order. And the place to go should you want access to your destination country are the Embassies.

Long heralded by 1st world countries as the best deterrent to mass migration, embassies are, as the title says, the first line of defense against anyone and everyone interested in crossing their hallowed entry points. Government bureaucracy, inept staffing, long queues and snobby nosed secretaries all conspired to make the stamp on your passport worth its weight in blood. Now, thanks in part to 9/11, border control has taken on a whole new meaning.

Of course, when all else fails, there’s always the internet yes?

Mayvelous May has taken the arduous, near herculean task of reviewing a few of the major embassies here in Suva, including the British, American, Australian and even French embassies.

At the beginning of each embassy review she gives the name of the embassy, as well as a summary of what to expect once you step in through the doors (French Embassy – Very quiet). A few paragraphs of policies, procedures and at times, frustration should give you a fair idea of how everything goes down in said embassy.

At the end of the embassy review, she’s placed the contact details, as well as how easy it is to get in contact with them, a very handy feature indeed (Phone Support: The number mentioned on the website is useless, once called, tells you to call another number. Extremely RUDE and snappy response).

After reading the whole article, the first prize to the most difficult, hard to get to, hard to go through embassy comes as no surprise whatsoever. Of course, you may have had a different experience with said reviewed embassies. Who knows. So, if you’d like a head start through enemy terrain, then look no further then May’s “Embassies: Knowing how anal your local one is”.

Ok. That was a bad title. So sue me.

PS: May, use review stars! Everyone loves review stars