Bula is Fijian for "hello," and is said by every Fijian that you pass, with a smile. We spent five days in this wonderful tropical paradise, and it was definitely the best vacation we have had in years. At first the kindness seemed like it may be the result of resort employees sticking to the manual, but it quickly became evident that it is actually a way of life. Of all the experiences we have had around the globe, the one rule that appears to hold is that those people with the fewest material possessions seem to be the happiest. It always leaves an impression.
Friday night was memorable for us in a little different way. The tsunami that resulted from the earthquake in Japan was headed our way, and all we could do was sit and wait to see what happened. We had heard about the quake earlier in the day, but it wasn't until we were going to bed that we saw the news about tsunami warnings for the entire Pacific region. At first it was surreal, but once we started hearing about the focus on preparing Hawaii, which was much farther from Japan than Fiji, we started to get nervous. After a couple of calls to the front desk and lots of channel hopping between CNN, the BBC, and NHK (Asian), we decided we needed to be prepared.
Fijian officials made it abundantly clear that the police had alerted everyone on the coast to move to higher ground, and therefore their responsibility was done. We were right on the beach. The resort moved all guests to the second and third floors, and luckily we were already on the second floor. I made about fifty trips out to the balcony to measure six feet up on the building to visualize how high a wave could come. Beyond that, our fear was that the structure wouldn't withstand a wave. I envisioned how I would protect our son during the disaster, and then how to care for him if we were stranded for several days. We each formulated a rough plan in our heads, but never shared them with one another. We sat. We waited.
Andy felt helpless, and I was the most scared I have ever been. You evaluate the news networks in a whole different way when you are actually relying on them for information that is relevant to your life. Most networks failed miserably, but the only piece of hope that came that night was from a "weather terrorist," as Andy calls them, on CNN. He danced around and swung his arms and exclaimed about the impending doom, but he also explained the trajectory of the wave, and for the first time we felt a bit of hope. At 5 a.m., two hours after the wave was supposed to hit, we finally went to bed, with no noticeable effect whatsoever. There was an increase in the water level at some point, but it was so small that only the fancy marine instruments could measure it. An answer to countless prayers.
A day later, we ventured out on a boat to explore the nearby Mamanuca islands. It is comprised of a number of small islands, many so small that all they can fit is a couple of bungalows. Now that is escaping!
The water was amazingly blue. I didn't even realize the multitude of colors until I uploaded my photos. Looks like an ad for Benjamin Moore's 'Tropical Paradise' line of paints.
This is the oasis that will now serve as my mind's clip art for "I want to get away." We didn't stay at this particular place, but it is on the small island of Malolo. I can just see Andy in the hammock, Whit making a sand castle, and me in the kayak. If any of you would like to join us, there are plenty of chairs on the beach.
Whit played hide and seek with one of the lady boat passengers. The biggest little flirt wherever he goes. (Notice the man with his shirt blowing in the wind. Never really understood that style, especially for those with beer bellies, which his is neatly hidden by the lady's bag. Reminded me of the man in the customs line with us at the Fijian airport who oddly out of nowhere exclaimed "Hey man, I made it to 40 years without any babies or STDs!" I was happy for him really, because that was a win-win for all of society...and yes, he was American.)
The mainland we stayed on, Viti Levu.
The Fijian women LOVE babies. EVERYWHERE we went, they would come over and talk to Whit, tickle his feet, and even pick him up and kiss him. Kelera, one of staff members at the resort, had a very special place in her heart for Whit, and they would giggle together with glee whenever they saw one another.
This Sunday we went to the Australian Grand Prix with several of Andy's co-workers, and it was unreal! I have never really been into racing at all, but now you can dress me in a jumpsuit and call me an adrenaline junky. There is something about the whizzing by of Formula 1 cars (the quintessential race car in my opinion - it's the narrow cars where the driver's head is exposed, as opposed to the "normal-looking" Nascar cars) that just gets your blood pumping. Whit and I had been listening to the whizzing for four days since our apartment is only several blocks from the track, but we left the little man at home to attend the main event because at the track, the sound is 130 decibels. I insisted on getting earplugs before we went, and Andy laughed at me...until 5 minutes into the race when he turned to me and asked for my ridiculous $1.12 purchase.
