uncertain

/Λnˈsзtən/ adj. 1 not known with certainty; not finally established; in doubt; dubious. 2 not sure; doubtful. 3 likely to change; not to be depended upon; not reliable. 4 not constant; varying. 5 not clearly identified, located, or determined; vague; indefinite. 6 not settled or fixed; indeterminate. 7 that may not happen.

I’ve been back in Sydney about a week-and-a-half.

It’s been good to be home. I’ve been catching up with the relos, and some friends, and have really enjoyed spending time with my family and Heather and Gary. We’ve had some good chats about all sorts of stuff … life, family, travel, Fiji, Australia … the list goes on. I’ve spent a fair bit of time doing some mundane stuff, like Christmas shopping, tidying up, getting my driver’s licence replaced (the old one was stolen during the robbery), “un-suspending” my health insurance, and all that kind of stuff. I seem to have fallen back into the routine of living the Australian life pretty easily. Is that a good thing? I’m not so sure …

Mum, Dad, Heather, Gary, and I had an awesome weekend away in Dubbo, which I really enjoyed. It was a bit of a trip down memory lane for me, taking me back to the days when Dad would take us out west on his country sales runs. We went through the Blue Mountains, Lithgow, Bathurst, Wellington, Dubbo, and Mudgee. It was pretty hot out there, and there are noticeable differences in the landscape. I always remember the Megalong Valley as being a picturesque, green place, but now it’s just parched, brown, and tired-looking. The scenery continued like that most of the way. The contrast between the “outback” I remember from childhood and the drought-ridden countryside now is amazing.

Despite being home, I’ve been a bit restless … and I haven’t been able to put my finger on exactly why. I was certainly sorry about the way we had to leave Fiji in such a rush. But people have been asking me, “So, what are you going to do now?”

The answer is, “I don’t know.” I’m not really sure what I want to do. The volunteer experience has opened my eyes to a whole lot of different people, experiences, opportunities, and adventures, and right now I’m just not sure what path I want to follow. I do feel that some of the things I had as priorities before, aren’t so important to me now. (In my first week back, my Nan started asking me about when I was going to start getting into the real estate market. I certainly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be talking to her about it then, but even now, I think my priorities may be a little different to hers … not to mention that with the Sydney real-estate market the way it is right now, there’s very little chance I’d be able to afford “something of my own” any time soon. I think that perhaps “owning my own home” just isn’t as important to me as it was before). I really enjoyed the “fresh start” Fiji gave me … I was able to “begin again” in a way … meet new people and do things I’d never done before … all without prior knowledge, history, baggage, and the rest. I probably didn’t appreciate it while I was there, but now — as Heather pointed out to me — I realise that there are things that are different about me, or ways in which I’ve changed, but to everyone back home, things are just the same. This may take some time to reconcile.

I have been saying to people, “I’ll just wait and see.” I really would like to just hold out for a bit and see what God’s got in store for me, but I also will eventually need to start thinking about whether I want to take on any new activities or commitments in 2007.

It’s all very confusing, and there aren’t any clear answers just yet. But let me change the subject and end this post with a few lists:

Things I don’t miss from Fiji:

• The poor roads


• The stray dogs running everywhere


• UHT milk. You just can’t beat full cream, 100% dairy, homogenised, pasteurised milk. Especially on cereal in the mornings!


• Sales staff in shops. If you say to someone in Australia, “I don’t need any help, thanks; I’m just browsing,” then that’s the end of it. Not in Fiji!


• Traffic pollution, and littering. At least in Australia we’re a little more environmentally aware. (I’m surprised that solar power hasn’t caught on more, though … But that’s a whole other blog entry!)

Things I miss from Fiji:

• The friends I made, and the people I worked with


• Being involved with the Deaf community


• Having an independence I’d never had before, and having to cook, clean, etc. etc. for myself (and others! I miss being the “chef guy” of Team Veiuto!)


• Cheap haircuts. I don’t care what anyone else says, nobody flamboyantly waving some scissors around my head for ten minutes deserves to be paid $18–$20. It’s practically daylight robbery.


• Altruism. There’s not too much of it here.

Anyway. That’ll do for now. I hope to put another entry in here around Christmas, so make sure you check back.

Cheers,
Andy

evacuate

/i'vækjueιt/, v. 1 to leave empty; withdraw from. SYN: quit, vacate. 2 to withdraw from a place in danger or that has undergone some disaster.

This blog post comes to you from my home city of Sydney. Yes, that’s right. I’m back in Australia.

I was enjoying the clean-up process at school on Thursday … All the students had gone home for the holidays, and the teachers were scheduled to have a Christmas party the following day. Suddenly, at about midday, my mobile rang. It was our in-country manager. “Andrew,” he said, “you have to let your housemates know you are all being evacuated to Nadi this afternoon. You are allowed to take one piece of hand luggage and a 20kg suitcase. We’ll meet you at 2pm.” So I headed home. With two hours to go, the packing was a mad rush of me trying to fit all my belongings into the suitcase (which ended up weighing about 25kg). Of course, it was going to be impossible, so then I had to try and decide what to leave behind. We had no idea how long we would be away, or anything.

We were bussed around to Nadi that afternoon, and that evening had a visit from the regional manager. She told us we would all be sent back to Australia the next day.

They put us up at a backpacker hotel on Thursday evening, and paid for our dinner and breakfast on Friday. Friday morning was spent wandering the streets of Nadi, trying to madly cram two weeks’ worth of sightseeing and souvenir shopping into a few hours. Then, on Friday afternoon, following some very hasty goodbyes to friends and flatmates of the last 5½ months, we were on planes headed back to various cities in Australia.

As you’re reading this, please spare a thought and a prayer for the other volunteers on our programme. Some of them had only been in Fiji a few months, and were just starting to get the hang of their assignments and living in Suva. Others still had about six months to go. I have been fortunate, in that I was almost ready to start packing up anyway. I think, in my head, I was already back in Australia (if that makes sense). But for other people, the news was stressful and upsetting. There are some Aussies who now have no jobs and no homes. We have also been told there’s no way they can advise them when they’ll be returning to Fiji … if at all. I guess there’ll be a fair few people with their eyes glued to the TV and internet, watching closely to see what happens over the next little while in Suva…

Since then, I’ve had a bit of a chance to catch up with family and friends (although I still have much more of this to do), do a bit of shopping and mundane household-y organising type stuff, and unpack my suitcase. I have a long list of things that I also need to try and organise in Suva (not the least of which is getting the rest of my stuff — sheets, some clothes, books, painting things, papers — shipped back to Australia). I also want to check up on the people back in Suva, to make sure they’re doing OK.

Thanks for checking the blog regularly. It’s not over yet! Stay tuned to the news, and see what’s happening in the place I’ve called “home” for the last 5½ months!

Cheers,
Andy

colonialism

/kə'loυniəlızm/ n. 1 the extension of a nation’s sovereignty over territory beyond its borders by the establishment of either settler colonies or administrative dependencies in which indigenous populations are directly ruled or displaced. 2 a set of beliefs used to legitimise or promote such a system.

It’s been a bit up-and-down the past two weeks. Partly because of the weather. (I know I wrote about the weather last time, and that it is perhaps one of the most mundane topics of conversation you could ever want to chat with someone about … still, this is kind of significant, so just bear with me). About a fortnight ago, it rained non-stop for a week. I’m not exaggerating. Non-stop. This past week hasn’t been any better. All the Fijians I work with are asking, “What’s going on with the weather?” so it’s not really something that you could call usual. It started to get me down. There was a break in the clouds a day or so ago, so that was some welcome relief. But anyway … I’m still hopin’ for some good ol’ sunshine.

Contributing to my “down-ness”, I heard two brief anecdotes recently that really got me thinking about the nature of things here in Fiji. The first one went like this:

I was having a cup of tea with my friend Ruth, and she mentioned that a native Fijian was talking to her about the cultural differences between Fijians and Anglo-Saxon people. “We think it’s so great, Ruth, that you’ve really tried hard to bring yourself down to our level,” they commented. This speaks volumes. At our pre-departure training programme (which I thought was fantastic; a real eye-opener) we were really encouraged to make an effort at bridging the cultural gap, and trying to demonstrate interest in the language, mannerisms, and beliefs of the people we work with. I’m glad that when such an effort is made, it’s appreciated. But think about what it means. It means that if Ruth hadn’t tried to behave in a culturally sensitive way, and integrate herself into the community, there would be an automatic assumption that she was in some way “better” than the native Fijians in their own country. It means that Fijians believe (or at least, this one Fijian believes) that Fijians aren’t as good, or worthy, as white people.

The other story came as one teacher I work with, Claudette, was talking about her childhood. She mentioned that her father had served in the British Army, and she was telling about how — because of the influence the regimentation of army life had on him — he ran a fairly strict household. She remembers being taught how to eat her food “properly”, by using a knife and fork.

I guess these short, fairly simple stories might not mean much to many people. But they really got me thinking about the Fijian culture, the nature of the Anglo-Saxon way of life, and my role here.

I generally walk down the street carrying an umbrella under my arm, just in case it starts to rain. There have been several occasions recently where I have imagined how I must look to people. If I was wearing a suit, and maybe a bowler hat, I’m sure I would look like “the perfect English gentleman”. When I catch a taxi, I usually sit in the back seat, smiling mildly out at the locals walking along as we zoom past … “Home, James.” It could just be me, but sometimes I feel like I’m being stared at on the bus, or at least sense curious glances that stray over me just a moment too long. The fact that we have an indigenous Fijian living in our so-called “maid’s quarters”, who comes in to clean our house once a week and “do some work in the gardens” smacks of the “master-servant” relationship.

In some ways, it’s futile. No matter how many Fijian language lessons I take; no matter how many Fijian friends I make; no matter how much I wear a sulu (the traditional wrap-around “skirt” worn by men in Fiji); no matter how many other American, British, Australian, and New Zealander expatriates live and work in Suva; my skin is still white, and I stand out. I’m a kai valagi, /kai βa'laŋi/, a white person — albeit one who is genuinely interested in the people and culture of Fiji.

This is very closely connected to the idea of international “aid”. The “help” that we as Australian volunteers are supposed to be offering the people of Fiji. The very reason we’re here. I have met kai valagi people who are so keen to “make a difference” and “improve the chances” of the Fijians. But I have been asking myself where this motivation comes from. Is it genuine desire to advance the quality of life of Fijians in ways that might otherwise not be available? Or is it trying to make Fijians more “Western”, and less “uncivilised”? (Is there even a distinction between the two questions?) Why do Aussies want to come and volunteer here? Is it to provide better services, or to show the locals “how it should be done”? How close does it all come to racism?

Sometimes I have wanted to scream. “You aren’t beneath us! What are you talking about? You can’t eat properly unless you’re holding cutlery?! Don’t listen to me! What do you think?!” Is there anything inherently wrong with sitting on the floor while you eat your dinner? (What if you can’t afford furniture?) Is there anything wrong with using traditional herbal medicines? (What is the average life expectancy here?) Why do you need to own your own car? (What’s the current level of taxi- and bus-generated pollution?) Who needs a TV? (How much time do people spend here drinking kava and leaving their children to wander round the streets? Is owning a TV a better option?)

I’ve seen some really genuine white people, who are interested in what’s happening, who want to learn, who are sensitive, and act “appropriately”. I’ve also seen some pretty patronising stuff. Like the episode when I was in the supermarket, and the following interaction took place between the Fijian guy working in the shop and the older (I’m embarrassed to say, Australian) female customer:
“Are you sure these cushions will be available if I come back tomorrow?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I don’t want to come back here and find out they’ve all been sold.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Maybe you can keep them aside for me?”
“I’ll do that for you.”
“Well, you just make sure I’ll be able to pick those up tomorrow …”
And then she turned and rushed off down the aisle. But before she disappeared, she realised she’d forgotten something. So, she flicked her head around and said, “… Please!” while the storeperson was left standing, staring at the empty space where she’d just been hurling cursory manners at him.

It’s all very interesting. It makes me sound extremely cynical, and I’m sure (as with most things) these remarks are just sweeping generalisations. I don’t have any answers. But I don’t apologise. These are just things I’ve seen and thoughts I’ve had. Maybe one day it will all make sense.

Tomorrow, I’m going to Caqalai /ðaŋga'lai/ with Wes, Alex, and Kath. It’ll be nice to have a bit of a relaxing time away from the city; I was hoping to finish off the book I’m reading: Life of Pi by Yann Martel (although it sounds like Wes has got a fair bit of activity planned … walking, swimming, snorkelling … Life’s tough, but I’ll struggle through!)

Cheers,
Andy

frustrated

/frΛsˈtreιtəd/ adj. 1 foiled, stopped, disappointed. 2 suffering from frustration; dissatisfied, agitated, and/or discontent because one is unable to perform an action or fulfill a desire.

I have had a pretty interesting week this week.

One of the classes has been studying “Ancient Civilisations” and were doing a unit on Greece. Inise, their teacher, asked if it would be all right if they could hold a mini Olympic Games, since the Greeks were the ones who started off the tradition. All the other teachers thought it was a great idea, and pretty soon all the classes were involved. “How about we divide the children up into country teams?” one of the others suggested. “They could each wear coloured t-shirts to show which country they’re from.” Some of the kids could even dress up in national costume! Then somebody suggested an opening ceremony with a march into the arena, and this was quickly followed with a torch relay and the lighting of the Olympic flame. Next the idea came up that their families and a prominent “chief guest” could be invited, which would really encourage the kids.

So on Thursday at lunch, they had a practice of the entry into the arena, which took a considerable amount of time!

Then on Friday, it was time for the Olympics! The kids all came in their country colours, and before long, there were flags being painted on cheeks and arms. A brightly coloured sulu was hung up over the stairs, and from nine o’clock to ten o’clock the teachers were making flower arrangements to place around the officials’ seating area, and getting the morning tea ready! The kids all lined up behind the school ready to march and the Olympic torch (which had been doused in kerosene) was waiting to be lit. The Sports Co-ordinator from the Fiji Disabled Persons Association was there to officially open the games. He gave a wonderful speech about how proud he was that the school put in so much effort, and how sports are good for your mind and your body, and how he was looking forward to the day when some of these students will travel overseas to represent Fiji in professional sports (I don’t think he realised that the kids were going to be playing games like Eat The Apple Off The String Without Using Your Hands, and Who Can Chow Through A Bowl Of Porridge The Fastest?)

Then it rained. No, poured. Absolutely bucketed down! We were all standing out in the cold and the wet. But it was still a great experience, and they had a great time. Needless to say, the poor kids were soaked through by lunchtime, and so the conclusion of the games, score tallying, and prize-giving ceremony has been postponed to next Friday. The saga continues …

We have made friends with the other Australian volunteers who live across the street from us. One of them, Alex, brought a keyboard with him, and was looking for someone to show him a bit, or maybe give him some lessons. So that should be pretty fun, I reckon. They’re a pretty cool bunch; in fact, all the volunteers I’ve met have been really friendly and supportive … It’s strange how you can just be thrown together with a completely random group of people and need to make new friends, and get on with your housemates, and it just seems to work. I’m not saying this has been the case for everyone, but I have certainly been blessed in terms of where I’m living, and the people I live with, and the friends I’ve made.

My e-mail account and internet connection has been painfully slow lately. They tell us it’s got something to do with that particular provider not having very good support in Fiji (or something). Last night I was on the ’net for more than an hour trying to access one e-mail message. But it’s been the same with all our mobile phones here too. Our provider ran a special, where you would get double the credit for the value you paid (if you pay $11, you get $22 worth of credit … this also means the more you pay, the more free credit you get). Unfortunately this means absolutely everybody in Fiji has wanted to “double up” and now you need to call at least six times before you have a chance of getting a dial tone. The network just seems to be overloaded. There was even a topical comment printed in the newspaper the other day. Two little guys were standing about two metres from each other, both on their mobile phones. One of them says, “I’m calling you!” and the other replies, “But it’s after 7pm … So I can’t hear you!” Anyway. There are some little frustrations here that we put up with.

Overall I’m doing well, and promise to send out some more personal e-mails to people as soon as I can.

Cheers,
Andy

expatriate

/εks'peıtriət/, n. 1 one who has taken up residence in a foreign country.

Well, first of all I should apologise to those who have been checking this page in the hope of an update, but been bitterly disappointed. I have been pretty busy, and there haven’t been too many chances to access the ’net. But anyway.

Things are going really well. I have now been in Suva, Fiji for a little over one week. Mainly, I have been getting myself oriented with the other volunteers. I am flatting with two others, Wes and Janet, and this past week we have been having fun decking out our new digs. We had a table and some chairs, a few bed frames, and a stove, and that was about it. So it has been a fun experience buying everything else from scratch. We are still living the Spartan life, but hey, it’s all good. As soon as I work out how to do it, I’ll add a photo here so you know what our house looks like.

A lot of this week we have spent travelling in and out of Suva. The streets are pretty higgledy-piggledy, and it has taken a while to learn where the main landmarks are, but I’m sure I’ll get there slowly. I have noticed that there has been heaps of change since I was here in 1998. People are saying that things really started to change after the political coup six years ago. There are many new buildings I don’t recognise, but every now and then something will pop up, like the president’s house, the Hilton Special School, and (sad to say) the McDonald’s in town.

I am living just a short walk from the water, and there are some impressive looking mountains to the west. When the sun sets (if it’s not too cloudy) the scenery is beautiful. I haven’t had a good chance to take some photos yet, but when I get a nice one, I’ll put it on here for you to look at.

We have all had lots of taxi and bus rides. Both are interesting, and both have their pros and cons. For the moment, I’m catching two buses to work, which takes me about an hour. This is an exciting journey of open windows, exhaust fumes, the crowded Bus Stand, and blasting music (I could see the speakers moving violently, no exaggeration — I’m not kidding). On the positive side, it is just a little over $1 for a one-way journey.

One of the greatest things I have appreciated here is the chance to interact with the other volunteers — especially the ones who have already been here three months or more. Their advice has been invaluable, and their help has been fantastic. We were even invited to dinner with some of our neighbours a few days ago.

Anyway. That’ll do for now. I’ll keep you all up to date, and will write again when I get the chance. Thanks to everyone who’s written to me … keep them coming, because it’s been great to hear from you.

bald

/bo:ld/, adj. 1 wholly or partly without hair on the head. SYN: hairless, glabrous

G’day, everyone.

Well, this is my first ever adventure into the world of blogging. It’s a bit of a disconcerting thought, knowing that whatever I write here can be seen by absolutely anyone! (I’d better be careful what I say!) Anyway. The reason I’m keeping track of my thoughts here is that I’m about to embark on a six-month volunteer assignment as an audiologist in a Deaf school in Fiji. It’s a very exciting opportunity, and I wanted to share my experiences ... with whoever is interested. So, hopefully, you’ll be able to come along for the ride — without getting up from your chair! My plan is to try and update this site at fairly regular intervals, although exactly how regular will depend on how often I can access the ’net in Fiji.

The last few weeks have been pretty awesome. I had a fantastic time at Pre-Departure training in Canberra. All 74 volunteers were there, and it was good to meet up with them all, knowing that they’re all going through the same kind of emotions as you, and will be having the same kind of adventure. I made some new friends, too, which is an added bonus! We learnt a lot about cross-cultural issues, which will be really helpful to me ... and particularly since I’ve never done anything like that before! Our medical briefing was interesting too: “You will get diarrhoea.” Looking forward to that one ...

Last Saturday I shaved my head. Not just on a whim ... but as a fundraiser for leukaemia research. It was a good effort, and I’m heaps grateful to all the people who sponsored me. Except now I look like a bit of a thug, and I know one person in particular who is lamenting the loss of my hair ... It’s nice to know your mother cares about how you look ... (It was worth the effort, though!). I’ve attached some photos here, so now you know what I look like now ... and what I looked like before!

For the next week-and-a-half, I’m finishing up at work, visiting relos before I leave, and (at some stage) trying to pack my bag! At the moment, I’m pretty calm, cool, and collected. But I’m sure things will get much crazier as the week goes by!

My next entry will probably be once I’ve arrived in Fiji and have settled in. Make sure you check back here and see what I’m up to!

Cheers,
Andy