Traveled back in time... and found my happy in Fiji

It's day five of my trip, and it may finally have sunk in that I'm here. I keep pinching myself just in case. I have to say my arm is almost purple at this point from all the pinches. Or maybe that's just my crazy sunburn from 5 days under the South Pacific sun?

Looking back, I really can't believe all that's happened since I last wrote from my lazy life in San Dimas. Monday the 4th was a whirlwind of packing, frantically calling friends and family to say one last good bye, and settling the manner of my Ethiopian visa. I'm psyched to report that due to my status as a Sierra Club volunteer, I was able to draft a letter of invitation to myself to enter the country, and the Ethiopian consulate actually accepted it! (Hope that's cool with my Sierra Club bosses if you happen to be reading this.) ;) What an amazing first example of my international travel mantra-- "flexibility is the key to success!"

The flight itself was smooth sailing. I had a very self-satisfying moment at the airport when the lady checking me in asked me three times, "is that ALL the luggage you have- you're not checking ANYTHING?" (Haha- ohhh yeah). :) On the flight I finally read a little bit about where I'd be landing in Fiji, stretched out across three seats, and passed out for the vast majority of my 10.5 hour flight. At the Nadi airport, I learned another important lesson for my trip, called "Fiji time." Basically, it's best to not have a plan of action when you're in Fiji, because everything has around a 2 hour delay. I have to say I enjoyed waiting around for 2 hours for my hostel pick-up; I chatted with fellow travelers, was dazzled by the crazy bright southern hemisphere sun, and enjoyed the humid weather against my skin. I couldn't believe that I had just traveled counter-clockwise around the globe to now be 19 hours ahead of Los Angeles-- essentially back in time-- to arrive in Fiji!

Emboldened by my new accomplishment of time travel, I had an amazing first day in surrounding Nadi. I took a taxi to the Garden of the Sleeping Giant, an orchid garden with pungent aromas that I wish I could have bottled and taken home. I got lost in a garden, read my hilarious "Getting Stoned with Savages" travel book about Fiji, and smelled flowers for 2 hours, marveling at my good fortune. After that I wandered down a long empty road at the base of a glorious green tropical mountain to find the Sabeto Hot Springs. I passed it at first, and after asking a bunch of Fijians who shouted "Bula!" (hello) and offered me coconut juice, I turned around and found what I was looking for-- a giant hole in the ground full of dirty water. Success! Fortunately an Aussie lady had braved the bath first, so I got in right behind her and covered myself with mud. What followed was two hours of bathing, mud-covering, and baking in the sun (i.e. wash, rinse, repeat x 3). Finally I rinsed myself off and tried to catch the 2pm bus... when it never came (yay Fiji time!), I curled up under a big umbrella and passed out for two hours. Sooo relaxing! Why we don't bathe in mud in the U.S. and instead spend hundreds of dollars to lounge in resorts, I have no idea. Afterwards I caught a bus back to town and talked to a sweet farmer whose crops were badly affected by the cyclone that hit the islands 2-3 weeks previous, and who thought Obama was "just okay." Gotta love international perspectives on American politics. ;)


After a fairly uneventful night with some divers in my hostel who showed me Fijian hospitality of treating for a cab ride, pizza and beer, the next day I caught a boat to beautiful Mana Island. On the boat there I met some super friendly Americans and Brits-- Matt, Rob and Robin from Denver, and Craig and Dan from a few hours north of London. At the island we joined Steve and Deborah, solo-traveling Californians from Sacramento and Ventura respectively, and with that we had a little group for 2 days with whom we could enjoy the white sandy beaches, crystal clear turquoise blue water, and stunning views of neighboring islands. Every day felt like an absolute dream-- waking up to lie in the sun and work on my angry red tan/base coat for my trip, lounge by the beach and read, play fooseball or cards, walk around the island, go snorkelling, and at the end of the day hike to the highest point on the island to capture the sunset on camera. Did I mention my arm is purple from trying to wake myself up?!

Amidst hours of mafia game-playing, cross-dressing competitions and long intense political conversations with my new friends whereby they decided I was a communist (oops- guess I came on a little too strong with my Sierra Club jargon, haha), one of my favorite experiences on the island was getting to know a Fijian from Rotuma island named Alex. He works as staff at the hostel and is a self-taught knife and fire dancer. I continuously confused him and his twin brother Philippe, and was struck by his hilarious and totally out-of-place sarcasm. When I met him on the first day, he carved me a necklace made out of a coconut shell in in the shape of the "Ohm" symbol, which is cool enough in itself. But while casually asking me questions about my background, my family and my trip, he threw me a question I'd never heard before: "What's your happy?" A little confused, I asked him what he meant. "You know, that thing that lights you up and makes you feel alive and happy-- your thing. Mine is dancing." This question completely threw me for a loop. Sure, I know what my passion is-- women's health and rights rolls off my tongue about as easily as my name, these days-- but my happy? It struck me as amazing that I really had no idea, nor had I ever thought about the question. Shouldn't we all have a happy? If so, what would mine be- meeting diverse people? Art and creativity? Genuine heart-felt conversations? I decided that I would think about it, and lazily sunk back into my island-induced stupor of not thinking about anything but the sun, the breeze, the water and the sand.

Over the next three days on the island, this question remained in the back of my mind while the Fijian island culture and landscape worked its magic with me. On the boat back this afternoon, I revisited this question of what is my happy, and realized that while I might still not know what what it is-- whatever it is-- I found it on Mana island. Who would have thought that five days into my trip around the world for 8 months, I'm feeling more relaxed, comfortable, peaceful, content and serene than I can remember. I can't imagine a better beginning to my trip around the world.

Now, I'm staying at a wonderful couple's home in Nadi as part of couchsurfing.org, a sweet but hardcore and say-it-like-it-is Irish woman named Diane and her Fijian husband Paul. I was a little nervous at first, especially when one of the first things Diane told me when we met, was that her husband's cousin, a 21 year-old named Noah, had stolen money from her purse last nigh, and as punishment she was planning on breaking his fingers this evening. However, they are an incredibly kind and accommodating couple, who treated me to pizza downtown, gave me a key to the room I'm staying in, and have given me tons of advice and insider-info on Fiji. Now I'm drinking kava and sharing funny stories with them and a fellow German traveler, and as I prepare for the next month of my trip in New Zealand starting tomorrow, I'm so happy to have had this time in the happy islands. Maybe during the rest of my 8 months of traveling, I'll actually take the next step and know what my happy is. :)