Archive for category lifestyle
Daylight savings: Who’s (waking) up for it?
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.
You know you’re fijian when…
Via Facebook comes this handy checklist to see if you know you’re fijian. Here’s a few pointers, and if you raise your eye brows and say “Trues up”, then you know you’re it 
1) Your parents talk soo damn loud on the phone..but yet they dont realize it.
2) You been to a lovo in some1’s backyard.
3) You see someone you know more than 10 feet away, rather than just waving, or nodding, you yell “OYE!” at the top of your lungs.
4) You go out to a birthday party/function in your nice Bula Dress/Shirt and your Flip Flops. (Guilty as charged)
5) You watch re-runs of past Rugby Sevens tournaments.
The list is quite long, and I found myself nodding my head in amazement. I mean, when you use “Off the light” as part of your vocab for god knows how long, it’s only when it’s pointed out that the english isn’t quite correct then do you realize how funny it is. Have a go yourself. You will be pleasantly surprised.
To be a kid again, silly poems and all
Posted by Wilson in Blast from the past, grog, lifestyle on June 14th, 2009
Smiley kid ca saraga
Remember when you were a kid?
The good ol’ days when you didn’t give two cents about what other people thought of the hole in your shirt, when cartoons in the afternoon were the most looked forward to hours aside from school lunch hour and visits to the shop with 10 whole cents, when you were convinced that your current group of friends were going to be with you forever, when you absolutely knew your class teacher was either the bestest best teacher ever, or was most certainly the cruelest demon ever to walk the earth unchallenged by demon hunting heroes that you gleaned off from the comics that you swiped off your neighbour?
I recently had a run-in with nostalgia a few days ago, when, during a lunch session with a few of my workmates, I happen to come across a popular, I’m not quite sure how to describe this, but for the moment I’ll settle for ’silly kids poem’.
The chance conversation centred around who was going where, when someone said, “Where you gang all going?”
“Suva,” was the reply.
At that moment, most probably without thinking, my fijian workmate, his eyes lit with that familiar glow of Deja Vu, launched into a tirade of sentences that started one after the other, each sentence continuing on the previous statement with a question, and weaved its way through a jumble of nonsense that culminated in the arrival to the very word that set off the whole verbal fiasco. Suva.
For the sake of keeping nostalgia alive, and for future reference, here is the poem in its entirety. This poem works as a back and forth between two people, and almost always starts off with the conversation having had the word “Suva” mentioned. Note that while this is the version that I heard and am familiar with, you may have a slightly different version in your head, or maybe not.
To start off, someone has to start with the opener:
Fire vei? (Where are you going?)
Suva
Suva cava? (cava – what?)
Suva City
City cava?
Sitiveni (english name for steven)
Veni cava?
Venikau (pencil? Not too sure on this word)
Kau cava?
Kau Ba
Ba cava?
Barewa (uro)
Rewa cava?
Rewa Daily
Daily cava?
Daily Post
Post cava?
Post Fiji
Fiji cava?
Fiji Times
Times cava?
Times 2
2 cava?
2 SUVA!
If you were a child of the 70s, 80s or even 90s, tell me you didn’t just read that and not feel a pang of nostalgia creep up to the corner of your eyes. If not, it’s never too late to start learning it
Get Your Fix. Now.
Posted by Wilson in lifestyle, suva, tipsntricks on November 7th, 2008
6 Signs Fiji is nearing ‘Civilization’ Quality
2) We got Internet
) stepped in and began the arduous task of building a highway that had – what? 2 lanes? No. Way. But it happened! Now queues are a thing of the past (in the old queue places, but with poor planning, bottling up of traffic happens else where now =_=)! Now we can speed through certain parts of the Kings Road on our superior 2 lane road, confident in the knowledge that this is how it’s done overseas. This is how Uncle Jone in California drives to work. On a road with more then one lane. Beautiful.
Fiji’s Fail Coke Can
While it has been around for awhile, I’ve decided to bring to attention those who aren’t aware of this new coke can, and point out just how annoyingly annoying the new addition to our diet is.
May I present, Fiji’s Fail Coke Can.
Initial impressions don’t yield that much. The coke can is your average 33oml can, with the traditional red and swirly hand-writing font we’ve all come to know (and even love) taking up one side. All in all, a pretty standard can to call our own.
That is, until you rotate the can around.
And you’re greeted by the sight of this new slogan “The Coke Side of Fiji”, as well as seeing the strangest thing that adorns the can. A Casper-ish hand pops out of the coke bottle artwork, holding a – wait – is that a Hang Loose sign?
Yes it is. And below the hand gesture is the infamous “Bula” word, with a tick next to it.
What. The. Hell. Is. Going on?
First off, the casper hang loose hand. If I recall, that sign is more commonly associated with surfers and their “chill out dude” attitude, as well as the use of the gesture. To be sure, I turned to good ol’ Wikipedia, and found out that I was right. Oh, but there’s more. Much more.
Aside from the fact that it is a hand gesture used by surfers, it is primarily a sign first and foremost used by Hawaiians, as well as associated not only with surfing, but other ‘beach’ sports such as “…kitesurfing, skateboarding, skimboarding, snowboarding and Skydiving.” Now for anyone who was born and bred in Fiji, the one thing they will agree with for sure is that Surfing isn’t a local thing. Granted, in Hawaii, it’s the national sport, but in Fiji, its either rugby or nothing at all. Surfing is usually taken up by either tourists, ex-pats, and a small number of dedicated fanatics. By placing a hand gesture that is (generally) familiar to only those within the “extreme beach sports” circles, Coca-cola is effectively saying that:
a) all Fijians (both indigenous and passport wise) surf, and therefore know and identify with said hand gesture.
or
b) because Fijians are mostly a bunch of ignorant fools who have not experienced the near orgasmic pleasure derived from riding mother nature’s curves, Coca-cola is taking on the responsibility of educating the masses on the joys of surfing, and subsequently, the hang loose sign.
Moving on, we’ve got the word “Bula” tacked on near the bottom of the can.
And where do we begin with this one…
“Bula” is Fiji’s greeting phrase, and is usually marketed as the word to be associated with Fiji overseas. So when FVB advertises to the masses in the 1st world countries, “Bula” is used to both say ‘hello’ and sell the travel package at the same time. Very efficient if I may say so myself. Its come to a stage though, that using the word “Bula” with a name or title, is starting to wear thin, wearing out its welcome mat. Now, when it comes to marketing, the use of the word automatically means that its:
a) Made in Fiji, for Fiji. Eg. “Bula-Loan!” Of course, the only thing made in this case is the huge debt if you’re not careful. Smiles not included.
b) A product that is marketed overseas, and needs that ‘Fiji’ touch to make it complete. “Fiji Prawns!” … “Bula!” See what I mean?
The same can be said for the coke can. I can almost imagine how the design came about…
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: Here’s the design for the new local coke ca -
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: No no no that isn’t going to work. Throw away the pretty frills and what not. We need more oomph. Something that says – This is your cool can of coke, Fiji. Take it. Own it! Make it your own! Make sweet love to it! It is yours for the taking!
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: …
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: Let’s put a chill out sign that those fancy surfers and all locals make when they’re doing their thing. Yeah. That ought to make it cool.
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: Uhh I don’t surf -
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: I don’t care. It looks cool.
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: (shrugs)
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: Oh. And put “Bula” at the bottom somewhere. We have to emphasize the whole “Fiji” thing to the locals.
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: Hmmm, thats abit silly don’t you think? I mean you don’t see “G’DAY!” on any of the australian coke cans do you?
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: I don’t care. It looks cool.
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: (shrugs)
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: Thats right. Now we’re talking. Oh, and put a tick besides Bula. Yep. Thats to show the locals that yes, this. Is. Correct.
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: What is correct?
[Stuffy Salesman from Coca-cola]: I don’t know…but it looks cool.
[Graphic Designer for coke can]: (sigh)
I give up.
PS: According to Wikipedia, in India and Venezuela, the shaka (hang loose) sign is used colloquially as a reference to sexual intercourse, and the hand may be moved in the direction of the pinky finger, as to mimic penetration.
Viva La Flip-flops!
Posted by Allen in fiji, flip-flops, lifestyle on January 10th, 2008
Personally, I prefer the “Bata” brand, which are simply black in colour and plain in appearance i.e. no fancy designs. Since I have yet to become a certified flip-flop reviewer, I won’t go into the pros and cons of the aforementioned brands.
When it comes to footwear, one of the favourite pastimes for most locals when visiting a house, is to walk away with someone else’s pair. This form of activity can also be classified as stealing, but since it has become common occurrence, and due to the fact that the common flip-flops are sold cheaply, most people have come to accept this as the norm. [Translation: This is Fiji Style]
I choose to wear “Bata” flip-flops, when visiting homes where common wisdom has it that there is a very high risk that I may never see my (costly or cheap) footwear again.
Yours truly, recently became a victim of this country’s favourite pastime. What makes this incident rather peculiar is that the culprit walked off with only one half of my flip-flop, and was kind enough to leave behind a smaller size.
The latest in Fiji footwear fashion. I present to you the wrong sizes.Warning: Viewing the enlarged (disgusting) image may cause
Nausea and Loss of Appetite
I guess it’s time to visit the shoe shop for another cheap pair of flip-flops. As for now, I’m content with going pato, which is local speak for barefoot.
December is a Busy Month. As well as a Christmas one :)
What can I say, Fiji Time certainly has its nefarious grip on us all. Tourists and all.
I would be wrong in saying that December has been a quiet month, since the number of posts has slowed down to a crawl. Quite the opposite in-fact. While work has been keeping me on my toes and away from slumberland, stuff’s being a-happening here in Fiji …
1) Digital Fiji pointed out that the eye in the sky NORAD has tracked Santa flying over Fiji. I guess the fact that me not receiving my Christmas wish list in the mailbox means that I wasn’t as good a boy as I had previously thought.
2) The Fiji Times is going to continue slave-driving/printing their paper into Christmas day! A tradition that was kept for 138 years will be broken due to promises of appearing on Santa’s good list for anyone working overtime. I wish I worked there.
3) Fiji had a hurricane. Viti Levu is spared the bedlam because of the opening of the new MHCC in the capital. Vanua Levu applies for a Wal Mart license.
4) The Methodist Church in Labasa bans kava and smoking during this festive season. Babasiga notes that after Christmas, it’s back to ‘normal’. Indeed.
5) I made a post awhile ago about how a local blog war is sure to start up, with the outcome pretty much predictable. Well, it looks like one is starting up, and with this particular tension, company reputation is at stake. Oceanic gets the ball rolling against fellow competitor Webmedia in an open letter over taking someone else’s work and “…passed it off as your own…” This is going to be interesting…
So, it is with slow and deliberately clumsy fingers on the keyboard that I wish you all, a very merry Christmas, and here’s hoping that you’ll stave off the effects of alcohol to make it to the new year celebration.
How’s your Christmas going so far?
Of 4 hour bus rides and Cheap Chinese Lollies
Sometimes, an outside view on the life in Fiji makes for a welcome read, since most things brought to the attention of the reader are often things that many of us won’t give a second thought to. Blogger cieart (with a small ‘c’ mind you) of Broken Coconut can attest to that. Although being locally born and bred, she’s spent the last two years living (read: adjusting hehe ) in Australia, and has only just recently made the mecca back to her homeland.
And while the usual sights and sounds made themselves known to her, bringing back pangs of nostalgia (“…that so called 10 minute wait at Sigatoka bus stand which turns into 30 minutes because goodness knows where the bus driver or the checker went…ah, it was good to be back!”), eventually, she started to notice the little things that made her stop and say WTF!
A few pointers from the list include:
- The price of groceries – I was visiting some family friends and i decided to make trifle which cost me almost $30 to make! I could not believe that for 1l of cream it cost me $12 and can of fruites were around $4 each.
- At the age of 29 I got asked for ID @ O’Reillys!
- Customer service or lack of.
Of course, home is always home, lolo kai with rice and all, so there was another list that was drawn up of things that will be sorely missed on the return trip back to Australia, my favourite lol’ed entry being Comsol.
Read the full post here and find yourself nodding your head in agreement, then shaking your head in amazement.
Never a dull moment in Fiji ain’t it.
Was there a moment you experienced with a shrug, but your not-local friend found amazing/awesome/disturbing?
An Anatomy of a Scene: Boozing at Home Part 2
Part 2 of An Anatomy of A Scene: Part 1
Beer is a complex thing.
The first sip is ok, depending on whether the beer is brain freeze cold (which is great) or room temperature warm (which isn’t so great). A few more sips and the taste starts to make itself at home with your taste buds. Three rounds later and you just can’t seem to wipe that silly smile off your face. By the fifth jug, you know for sure that whatever question gets passed your way, it can be answered with either a “YES!”, a “FIRE!” or a “FUCK YOU CAITA!”.
Throw in several like-minded individuals, the comfort of your mate’s house, and a very loud radio, and you’ve got the makings of an evening that cannot be predicted by even the most hardcore Grant’s Waterhouse regular.
When we left our buddies, they were still decided whether to hit the clubs while they still felt invulnerable, or stay back and continue ‘that good thing’. Decisions, decisions…
11:02pm: This is where everyone checks to see what the general mood of the session is…drunk enough to laugh the loudest? Or still sober enough to demand a few more rounds? Usually by this time the beer would have kicked in, and a curious itch to dance to anything played over the speakers will start to set in. Women are the first to get the ball rolling.
“Mai boys we go O’Reillys! Everyone we go mada and dance!”
“Fire, you girls go, us gang will just sit here mada and finish this box, then we’ll meet you gang out…”
11:35pm: The last round of beer has just been passed around for the guys who opted to stay back. A general consensus is reached.
“Vacava, more beer?”
“Fire. Put in mada…”
With money pooled, a quick trip to the local black market shop (or house, depending on where you get it from), and they’re back in business.
“Set. Spin the poison…”
11:50pm: With the music blaring loudly in the background, this is where the session takes another step up. The defining moment is when you can sing along with whatever song is played, and somehow, magically, you’re in tune with every syllable. And of course, everyone joins in, each to their own tune, a marvelous dis-harmony that sounds beautiful to the wasted, but encourages eyeball rolling from the neighbours.
“and SOOOOOOOOO SALLY CAN WAIT! SHE KNOWS ITS TOO LATE! CAUSE WE’RE OUT WALKING BY!!!”
12:11am: By now the beer has taken on a taste of its own, and somehow seems to be on par with water even. A necessary evil. If you’re the one doing the ‘taki’, and you’ve missed someone, prepare to get your ears severely trounced, if not by the victim, then by everyone else in the circle.
“Osobo you missed me bro!”
“Ah? Saaa kua ni lasu brotha, I’m sure I taki already to you – “
“Oi oi whats the matter you sa want to mamaqi the beer? Oooooh don’t be one boci magaichinamu and just taki mai this way eh?”
“Hey and these are my workmates – Elvin, Jope and Andrew.”
“Oooh bula bula mai mai come sit down. Qori, taki master! Totola mada and taki one quick one to the new gang.”
2:12am: Since the clubbers and their accompanying guests were already under the influence, it doesn’t take for everyone to relax with everyone else, and acquaintances are quickly made, thanks in part to the influx of alcohol.
It is also at this time that the Witching hour begins, as whoever’s been putting on the moves on the other sex now slide in for the kill, and with a few deft suggestions, disappear outside/bedroom/kitchen for awhile.
Knowing glances are exchanged, and a few laughs ensure, followed by a few cat calls.
“Hey hey make sure you don’t break the bed eh?”
“Be wise – dou vei cais!”
3:30am: This is officially the survival mode time. If someone is still awake and hasen’t yet:
a) passed out in the bedroom
b) passed out in the kitchen
c) vomited outside for the past 2 hours
d) left to screw someone
…then congratulations! He/she’s either a regular, an alcoholic, or unlucky 
Now shut up and take that serve of beer, there’s plenty more from where that came from…
4:23am: Ah, disagreements. Where would our drinking sessions be without them? Sure, no one likes to go through with it (at least for me…don’t know about the rest of you violent types), but there are some things in life that are about as certain as Fiji coups and losing to someone/anyone in the finals of the rugby 7s.
Basically it goes like this:
BOOZE + PEOPLE OTHER THEN YOU + HOURS = SCRAP
There are a near unlimited number of reasons as to why we fight, barring of course international terrorism and new Britney Spears court hearings. Girls, inflated egos, disagreements over whos rugby team will reach the finals, anything is fuel for a fight when you’re drunk.
In our case, ownership of the recently acquired beer brought in by the newcomers comes under scrutiny, and tempers flare. Violence is only a fist throw away…
“…you know that when you bring beer to the house it belongs to the house? uh? HUH?”
“Fuck you caita I bought that beer with my fucking money, so that fucking beer belongs to me magaichinana! I’m taking my beer out and leaving this shithole!”
“Don’t you fucking call my home that! Get the fuck out before I -”
“Before you what huh? Sona lev -”
Insert appropriate fight, and this is where everyone has several choices. Either join in, yell and try and stop it, or continue vomiting in the corner of the garden outside. Your choice.
5:55am: The last visitor is chased/kicked/dragged out of the premises. The last few bottles are finished off quickly as the sun rises to greet the party goers. It’s time to hit the sack and help your liver recover from the assault the night before. Of course, there will always be someone who just won’t go hit the sack, insisting that there’s a beer bottle still unopened somewhere in the fridge, and that the taki master wasn’t quite as on top of his game as he’d like the rest of us to believe.
“Caita Jim sarauta mada there’s no more beer!”
“Fuck man, I know for sure saraga for sure I saw one full one saraga sitting in the fridge somewhere here. Don’t worry about me man, just go sleep i’ll look around for it…”
7:30am: Of course you didn’t reach the bedroom, choosing instead to sleep on the lovely hard, wooden floor. It would have been a blissful morning sleep-in if it wasn’t for the fact that you are woken up by the sound…of porn.
There’s something to be said about being woken up in the morning by the sight and sound of some blond getting fucked on screen while some guy is drinking (guess there really was one last beer bottle) and watching at the same time with a straight poker face that could be watching The Simpsons.
From here on out, depending on what day you’re waking up in, it’s either more alcohol, more sleep, or a hap-hazard combination of both. Nothing is ever sure here in Fiji. Not even something as straight forward as drinking at home.
Your sore knuckles will attest to that.
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