Repetition Repetition

It’s it’s one one of of my my pet pet hates hates,, so so you you can can imagine imagine how how difficult difficult this this is is for for me me. A a source source of of major major frustration frustration, repeating repeating myself myself is is something something I I just just can’t can’t stand stand.

Alright, I think I’ve proven my point. That was hard for me. The following post will probably make some readers angry, just like repetition does to me. And people who don’t indicate. Seriously, how difficult is it to move ONE finger and push a small lightweight lever up or down? Now I’M angry.

With the ten-month mark rapidly approaching for the surviving members of my intake and I, it’s somewhat of a mad dash to fit in as much stuff before the end. For some of us, this means cramming in an awful lot of work (i.e. making sure a bookshelf at school actually gets built so books aren’t locked in a cupboard). For others, it’s a test of just how much work can be avoided in the final weeks, not due to their own laziness (entirely), but more because the rest of the office isn’t quite interested in participating in the four workshops that have been built around four manuals that no one will ever read. I’m not bitter, I swear. Either way, all this pales in comparison when it comes to the scarily scant remaining amount of the most sacred object of them all.

Weekends.

Most of the volunteers in my intake can count them on one hand. We all have five fingers on each hand, so you can do the maths. They’re precious commodities (weekends AND fingers), and much thought goes into how they will be spent. Here’s the rub though: we’ve already had forty-something weekends in Fiji, and it’s not exactly a big place. There is a very finite number of places one can get to on a weekend out of Suva. This means repeating yourself. A couple of weeks ago, I spent the weekend on an island called Yanuca. It was my second trip. As you can see, it hadn’t changed much.

Yanuca the first time

Yanuca the second time

Even the frighteningly eccentric leatherbound American who managed the place was the same (although she had attempted to strangle my sister in between my visits). The weekend previously, I spent at the Intercontinental, one of Fiji’s finest resorts. It was also my second visit there, although slightly different due to inclement weather. And the list goes on. Volivoli: twice. Wyndham Denarau: twice. Leleuvia: four times. Beachhouse: at least five times and counting.

I can see the looks of horror on your faces. OK, fine. It’s not like they’ve all been identical visits. The sunset the first time I went to Yanuca was truly stunning. Not so much the second time, although watching the rain roll across the mainland was pretty amazing in its own right. The buffet dinner at the Intercon the first time was better than the second, although I did have the most perfectly poached eggs at breakfast the second time around. And in all of these cases, the company has been different. As volunteers come and go, and other expats get promoted onwards from Fiji, the people that constitute these weekends away change dramatically.  So whilst the location repeats itself often, the contents of the weekends themselves is generally pretty fresh (unless like me, you have a favourite hammock and lie in it for hours at a time each time you go to the same place).

The absolute worst thing about repetition though is just how habit forming it can be. My Dad always insinuated that forming habits was a major weakness (although try getting him to vacuum at any time other than Sunday morning). It means you’re not thinking or caring, and simply going through the motions. In some ways, he’s right. But I have to admit, as habits go, visiting the cream of tropical island crop is definitely one of the better ones. And if, God forbid, I was found repeating myself on Yanuca or at the Intercon one more time, I think I’d be OK with it.  It wouldn’t be easy, but then again, neither is getting into a hammock with style.

In the midst of all this repetition, I recently found myself doing something entirely new: dolphin watching and snorkelling at the amazing Moon Reef. Ah, I love this country.

Stormy Weather

Sometimes it’s hard not to take things personally. Like when your cleaning lady says you’ve gotten fat. Or nobody but you is in your office for two weeks (and you spend the majority of that time smelling your armpits, just in case the reason is that obvious). Some more recent examples also come to mind. Watch and be amazed as I eloquently weave a tale that is not only humourous, but also beautiful and symbolic. And if I don’t meet your unnecessarily high standards, you’ve only yourself to blame. You should know the kind of quality this blog produces by now.

I’m no meteorologist, but I can tell you this much: storms occur due to a collision of warm and cold fronts of…air? Pressure? Stuff? Apparently I didn’t need to preface that sentence with ‘I’m no meteorologist’. My well-crafted point is that storms occur due to atmospheric turmoil. OK yes, Fiji isn’t exactly the most tumultuous place. It’s hardly brimming with violence or intrigue. Outside of Suva the skies are blue and the palm trees are still. Life is generally lethargic.

Until BAM.

Cyclone season.

In a matter of days, the landscape can go from this:

to this:

And suddenly life goes from seeming:

to:

The last couple of weeks here have been a bit crazy. Cyclonic conditions in the west and north, parts of the country being declared a state of natural emergency, new housemates (definitely not akin to a low pressure front or whatever, but a change nonetheless), and yet another person leaving Fiji for a bigger but not necessarily better country. You would think that after nine months (that’s right, the home stretch is upon us), I’d be accustomed to this constant state of flux, but it doesn’t always get easier.  Of course, my frustrations are minimal compared to those volunteers who actually had to experience firsthand the above floodwaters, deal with a lack of electricity for days, and no water for even longer. Still, you have to look at the positives, and it was pretty great having some of those volunteers come to Suva and batten down their hatches with us, party style. However, when several depressions moved over the Pacific and threaten further wind and rain at the same time as my very last legislated long weekend, the idea of spending a weekend on an island whiling away the hours in a hammock or wearing a snorkel (or both, if you’re feeling particularly idiotic) doesn’t seem so appealing. Then again, the thought of spending three whole work-free days in Suva is on par with having an ingrown toenail removed while simultaneously having your wisdom teeth ripped from your jaw sans anaesthetic.

We followed the wildly inaccurate weather reports for days before deciding to bail on our tropical island adventure (it was that or spend a few hours bailing out the boat). It was a painful decision to make, until I realised that sitting in a hammock in torrential rain wasn’t the most fun. So Suva it was. And it actually turned out to be pretty great. Which just goes to show that even if you do take things like cyclones personally, you can make the most of a bad situation by eating a lot of food and seeing a lot of movies and getting chocolate stains on your clothes from gorging on choc tops. All in all, there are much worse ways to weather the storm.

The storm was more lots of grey skies and heavy rain every now and then than an actual storm. Of course, the day after the long weekend, the sun came out. Which was even harder not to take personally.

The Finer Things

There comes a point in many of our lives where we’re able to really enjoy the classier things in life. And no: turning 18, buying a cask of wine and playing Goon of Fortune does not constitute ‘classy’. Not even a little bit. I’m referring to the time when you get your first real job and your first real paycheck, and you buy yourself a nice bottle of wine, instead of Passion Pop. Or when you go to a restaurant and get a full meal instead of a side salad with a side of salad. Or buy real cheese instead of cheese slices. Maybe even going to see a show, or a stand-up comedian, instead of watching reruns of Walker: Texas Ranger (Fun Fact #461: it’s one of the cheapest shows to air reruns of, which explains why it’s on here all the time. All the time) while eating noodles and wiping your mouth on the hood of your jumper and your hands on your ‘comfy’ (read: unwashed for 10 months and counting) trakky daks.

Most people around my age would agree that finer things come with the demise of university lifestyle. Sure, we can still eat off paper plates and use plastic cutlery, but that’s just for funsies. Not because we smashed the two plates we had playing My Big Fat Greek Frisbee and bent the spoons out of shape using just our minds. And then I decided to become a volunteer, and watched as my very life devolved before me. No flatscreen TV (for some of us, anyway). No indie bands gigging in town. No comedians. No electricity, currently.

Even our paltry volunteer allowance gives us the opportunity to, from time to time, enjoy the finer things in life. The great and beautiful Pam Beasley had it right. For the more ignorant, it might appear as though a place like Fiji is devoid of opportunities to appreciate these finer things. This is of course completely incorrect, in addition to being horrifically discriminatory. Shame on you. For you see, there are many places in which to discuss books and art and celebrate culture in a very civilised way.

Ye Olde Book Clubbe

Established at a time when adding ‘ye’ and random ‘e’s to phrases and words was totally in vogue, this high-falutin monthly meeting is terribly refined and exclusive. By exclusive, I of course mean expensive. Occurring at the most prestigious (again, read: expensive) dining establishment Suva has to offer, Ye Olde Book Clubbe offers an opportunity for the more high-minded volunteers to come together and discuss great literary works over a meal (usually just the mushroom soup, because the steak is too expensive. Delicious, but expensive). Tie required; pants optional.

Jam Sesh

Affectionately nicknamed ‘IXLing’ by a puntastic member, Jam Seshes fill the live music void. Whilst some pubs and clubs offer music, it really pales in comparison to being in a band yourself. That’s not really a live gig, you say? Only playing for yourselves, you whisper snidely? Up yours. Our first live gig was at the Hilton Special School. Performing to largely Deaf students. And even though my sign language skills are only basic, I’m pretty confident they totally loved us. Don’t believe me? Check out our official tour T-shirt.

Cinema

Village 6 cinemas don’t just show the Hollywood rubbish, no sir. I might only see that stuff, but hey, that’s my own fault. Because there’s so much more on offer. Bollywood, for a start. Even a Korean film festival. And then of course most recently, an epic shadow puppet showdown during a city-wide blackout.

…Fiji

Alright fine. We don’t have an opera house. The tallest building here is about eight storeys high. An orchestra would serve only as some sort of science experiment testing the effects of saliva on mould growth in wood and brass instruments. But you know what? That’s OK. Because there are plenty of fine things here. And I don’t just mean the 5 star resorts, although they’re not so bad either. The food’s pretty amazing, the company is truly stellar, and let’s face it, what’s finer than a tiny tropical island with white sand and snorkelling and sunshine?

And there you have it. The finer things.

This does not mean I don’t want care packages with fine things (i.e. chocolate) in them anymore. I still do. Bigtime.

Return from Hiatus

Last year was a cracking big one for new kid on the block Stiji. In eight short months he’s become a household name, yet is nothing if not humble. The young superstar recently took time off from his busy life to reconnect with family and friends. The Fijiwood Reporter was lucky enough to be granted an exclusive interview with Stiji upon his return a few days ago. This reporter was so starstruck by the meeting, he’s only now publishing it. Stiji reflects on the last eight months, his time off, and his hopes and dreams for the next chapter of his life. Read the interview after the jump.

TFR:    Well Stiji, it’s certainly surreal sitting across from you right now. Right off the bat, I have to say it: I’m a huge fan. You’re amazing. I love you.

Stiji:     (Laughs uncomfortably) Uh, thanks. Thanks very much. It’s certainly nice to be here.

TFR:     Now the pleasantries are out of the way, let’s get right into it. So. How are you?

Stiji:     Isn’t that technically a pleasantry? But it’s one I’m happy to answer. I’m good. Really good. Obviously 2011 was a fairly amazing year for me, and the experience isn’t over yet. I can’t say that it’s all been easy, and the last eight months have definitely been laden with frustrations in some ways, but on the whole it’s been such an incredible time for me that I can’t not speak highly of it.

TFR:     Let’s delve into that. It’s been a near-supersonic ascent into stardom for you. What would you have said if someone had told you a year ago you’d be here now?

Stiji:     A year ago? Well, this time a year ago I’d been accepted into the program, so I pretty much knew exactly where I’d be. But I think I know what you’re trying to get at. Whilst I definitely had expectations of this last eight months, it certainly hasn’t turned out as I imagined. I mean for starters I thought I’d be living on a beach swimming every day off perfectly white sand beaches. It turns out I’m living in one of the rainiest cities on the planet which is built adjacent to a man-made harbour full of all manner of nasties.

TFR:     But surely you get to the beach. You’re looking wicked tanned. And you’re in such great shape. How do you do it?

Stiji:     I do get to the beach during my down time, yes. It’s definitely a great source of relaxation for me. And thank you. You’re like the third Fijian to comment that I’ve lost weight. And I’m pretty sure to do that is cultural taboo, so I must be doing something right. All I’ve done for the last month is eat cheese though…

TFR:     Yes, this last month of yours. You went back home, reconnected with your family. Talk us through that.

Stiji:     Well I wouldn’t call it ‘reconnecting’. I have Skype, so we chat fairly regularly even while I’m away. But the rest is true. I did spend the large part of a month back home, and it was really great. I enjoyed the family time, particularly with my new niece, who is just adorable in every way, and I was also able to catch up with new and old friends. So all in all it’s been swell.

TFR:     Any particular highlights?

Stiji:     Eating all the aforementioned cheese. And I did enjoy a rather amazing mixed grill early on: steak, lamb cutlet, wagyu sausage, prawns. The coleslaw was pretty average though.

TFR:     On the subject of food, your love affair with Eggs Benedict is a well known fact. Some restaurants have even renamed the dish ‘Eggs Stijidict’. How was it going back to old haunts reigniting that love?

Stiji:     I’m not allowed to swear on this, am I? Eggs Benno and I were never reunited during my trip. It’s a needless tragedy and I really don’t want to talk about it. Move on.

TFR:     Tragedy indeed. I’m sure the nations mourn along with you. But you’re back now, and I’m sure your myriad of projects are back in full swing already. Can you give us any hint of what the rest of the year might bring?

Stiji:     Life as usual, really. I’m not big on following formula, so my fans shouldn’t be expecting things to end with a bang, or for there to be any kind of increase in suspense leading to some massive climax. In actuality, things are really beginning to wind down. There’s only three and a bit months left here, so I really need to begin the shutting down process soon, emotionally and professionally. Of course, professionally, I’d need to actually do something in order to close it off, but still. I have my side projects which will hopefully come to fruition this year, and of course planning the next phase of my life. To be brutally honest, the biggest things on my mind is planning the remaining weekends I have left and deciding how to use my pathetically small download quota.

TFR:     Feel like putting any spoilers out there on the interweb for us rabid fans?

Stiji:     I HATE spoilers! Do you have any idea how much they ruin EVERYTHING? Seriously, all these geeks and freaks and paparazzi who go out of their way to glean as much as possible from everything little thing. And for what? Who wants to go into a movie knowing the plot twist? Heck, who wants to go into a movie knowing EXACTLY what the new Spiderman costume is made of and which universe it best represents? And don’t even get me started on people that ruin TV shows. Just because I’m a little slow to watch some things, doesn’t mean it deserves to be spoiled for me. Come on.

TFR:     So that’s a firm no then.

Stiji:     Very astute of you.

TFR:     Well thank you Stiji for your time. All the best for the coming year. I’m sure I speak for us all when I reiterate your awesomeness, and wish you all the best in your future endeavours. We’re all totally pumped to see which direction you head next.

Stiji:     Thank you. Or, as they say here, vinaka.

TFR:     Lame.

Stiji:     Quiet.

Stiji’s mid-season premiere is airing now. Check it out. Or not, whatever. He’s cool.

Happy happy clap times!

All I Want for Christmas

It’s simple, really. Just a few minor things.

Steak, medium. Gravy. Fresh mushrooms. Broccoli. Fetta. Cheddar. Brie. Camembert, double cream. Cream. Milk. Olives. Pastrami. Bacon. Ham. Turkey. Prawns. Sausages. Potato salad. Quiche. Strawberries. Blueberries. Raspberries. Plums. Grapes. Nectarines. Peaches. Pizza. Aioli. Sweet chilli mayonnaise. Multigrain. Sourdough. Spinach leaves. Rocket leaves. Capsicum. Pesto. Sundried tomatoes. Fresh herbs. Artichoke. Snow peas. Sushi. Cider. Beer. Cheesecake. Pastry. Dark chocolate. White chocolate. Medium chocolate. Cherry Ripes. Caramello Koalas. Freddo Frogs. Chokitos. Crumbed fish. Hollondaise. Sour cream. Guacamole. Tortillas. Doritos. Salsa. Green chicken curry. Pad Thai. Spring rolls. Kebabs. Turkish bread. Hummus. Parmesan, basil and cashew chunky dip. Barbeque shapes. Barbeques. Smoked salmon. Pork. Dumplings.  Asparagus dip. Cream cheese. Lasagne. Roast beef and vegetables. Sweet potato. Not eggplant. Muesli bars.

Uninterrupted sunshine. Surf beaches. Heat without humidity. Smooth roads. Hot water. Potable water. Screens on windows. Newspapers containing newsworthy events. More than two TV channels. Efficient waste management system. Vehicle exhaust without holes. Trains. No ants, cockroaches, or mice. No bed bugs. Couches you can slouch on. Fast internet. Internet on phone. No public spitting. Walking anonymously on streets.

Family. Friends. Clean dogs and other animals.

All in that order.

But most of all, most of all, I’d love a place where Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas doesn’t play incessantly in shopping malls and on the streets. Maybe I should’ve moved to Riyadh.

Seriously though, a volunteer’s needs are simple. As many of us make the migration back to Australia for the holidays, our time will be taken up in two major ways: eating out with friends and family; and begging those friends and family to pay for those meals, because converting Fijian dollars to Australian dollars is not a fun exercise. To those loved ones who will be receiving their brave and selfless progeny over Christmas: do not be disheartened when their eyes glaze over in pleasure as they stick a fork into a perfectly poached egg and yolk bursts forth to mix with fresh hollandaise. Fret not when they loosen their welcome hug as they see the baked cheesecake adorned with fresh cream and berries sitting on the kitchen bench behind you. Smile knowingly when they stop mid-conversation to moan loudly and appreciatively as a forkful of steak meets their tastebuds. But most importantly, most critically, provide them with these treats. We don’t have any money.

Our hearts go out to those volunteers who for many reasons are not escaping. Poor buggers, having to fend for themselves in Tropical Paradise while the rest of us experience unseasonably cold and potentially wet Christmas. Although let’s face it, Christmas in Suva? It’s definitely going to be wet. For our fallen comrades, I gift you with this.

Merry Christmas to one and all.

Let it be clear, that all I want for Christmas is definitely not you. I in no way support or agree with the lyrics of Mariah Carey.

The Oscars

Good evening and welcome to the first, and likely only Academy Awards to be hosted by this blog. I’m Stiji, and I’ll be walking with you down the red carpet as we reminisce, ruminate, and ultimately judge harshly, the best movies Hollywood has produced over the last seven months. A total of 24 films are in the running for this year’s coveted ‘Best Picture’ Oscar (hosted proudly by Village Six Cinemas), but only one (perhaps more, if I get bored with thinking of ingenious award titles) will be the winner. I’d like to take this opportunity now to apologise to all those films I’ve probably seen but forgotten to list here: you will always remain close to the Academy’s heart, albeit shadowed by other, more memorable movies. And now, without further ado, I present to you 2011’s Oscars!

Best Film to See with a Fijian Audience THOR. Also the first to be viewed at Village Six, this gem was completed by the raucous laughter and howls of entertainment by the packed-out audience. Clearly a winner in the eyes of the people.

Best Platform for Harrison Ford Comeback COWBOYS & ALIENS. He defined the ‘space cowboy’ character in the seminal original Star Wars trilogy and returns over thirty years later as just a regular cowboy, but still manages to co-star with aliens. Typecast much?

Best Use of Creepy Teenaged Girl Assassin HANNA. This action film may have a star-studded cast, a pumping soundtrack courtesy of the Chemical Brothers, and some truly mesmerising visuals, but it’s all tied together by the wholly original (meaning non-horror) use of Hanna, the creepy teenaged girl assassin.

Best Unromantic Thriller CONTAGION. Sure, some people might enjoy seeing Gwyneth Paltrow being scalped, but the overarching message of this film is ‘don’t touch anything, or anyone’. And that message is brilliantly and terrifyingly executed.

Best Casting PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: ON STRANGER TIDES. Whoever decided to cast Johnny Depp and Salma Hayek together in this film is a genius. They look identical when wearing the same makeup. Yep. Only amazing thing about that movie, which says a lot.

Best Use of Sign Language RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES. I didn’t understand any of it, because it was American Sign Language, but it was nevertheless cool seeing a computer-generated ape using sign language on the big screen, particularly given my current area of employment.

Best Use of a Token Black Guy HORRIBLE BOSSES. This buddy film is wrong in all the right ways, and Jamie Foxx plays a truly phenomenal pretend killer.

Best Mutilation of an Historical Event X-MEN: FIRST CLASS. This was a tough category to judge, with a number of films in contention for the award. However, adding mutants to the Cuban Missile Crisis was a genius idea, and made for a pretty stunning conclusion to one of the best films of the year.

Best…Lighting? CONAN. This film, well, it managed to have lighting throughout. Unfortunately that often meant having to watch some truly horrendous scenes.

Best Use of Green GREEN LANTERN. Hey, if anything, we learnt that computer imagery-produced superhero masks do not work. Plus, you know, hold onto your green items of clothing and eat your broccoli: it all might just be the secret to unlimited power.

Best Half of a Movie: HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2. It was a truly momentous finale, there’s no denying it. But that’s all it was – a two hour finale to end a much-loved franchise spanning a decade. *Sob*.

Best Re-release of Childhood Classic in 3D LION KING 3D. The stampede. In 3D. How could it not win? And don't even get me started on the death of Mufasa.

Best Use of Lens Flare ALL the Time SUPER 8. A creature feature, a blast from the past, an homage to all those Steven Spielberg movies we loved growing up, this film also contained more lens flares than you can poke a stick at. And there’s really nothing wrong with that.

Best Character Death THREE MUSKETEERS. When a character’s name is actually ‘Milady’, she deserves to die. Doubly so considering Milla Jovovich plays her. And what better way to go than to be pushed off a hybrid zeppelin/tallship into the French Channel?

Best Beginning and End, But Sucky Middle TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON. Great beginning, excellent use of 3D technology, and a pretty spectacular ending. Why did Michael Bay even bother with the exposition? It’s a movie based on a toy franchise.

Best Poorly-Executed Idea IN TIME. It had such promise. Then they decided to cast Justin Timberlake as the protagonist, and gave him a weak script to work off. But interesting idea all the same.

Best Inclusion of Flying Cars CARS 2. Not since Chitty Chitty Bang Bang have I seen a film showcasing such amazing flights of fancy using cars. It doesn’t quite have the same magic as the old Disney classic, but let’s just chalk that up to the film not having memorable tunes.

Best Actors in a Bad Movie YOUR HIGHNESS. I’m really not sure what Natalie Portman and James Franco were thinking.

Best Use of Body Bronzer IMMORTALS. This was a close tie with Transformers, but the sheer amount of bronzer used on every half-naked cast member was more than enough to push Immortals over the line. All the weird gold headgear helped as well.

Best Father-Son Film REAL STEEL. Predictable, yet heartwarming (and with killer robots!!! Woot!), this film was a surprising crowd-pleaser with real heart. Also, Hugh Jackman looks weird without his Wolverine hairdo.

Best Villain CAPTAIN AMERICA. Hugo Weaving with a giant red skull for a head? That’s a win right there, even without mentioning the fact he wields a fist-sized cube that can destroy the world. And let’s not forget his dastardly Deutsche accent. Wunderbar!

Best Combination of Science Fiction and Christmas ARTHUR CHRISTMAS. Any Christmas-themed movie that features the vocal talents of Hugh Laurie and James McAvoy is already a win. Add a Christmas sled that has a cloaking device and is as large as a city, and you have an Oscar-winning film on your hands.

Best Emotional Film THE DESCENDANTS. Definitely a film that was hampered by a Fijian audience, not helped, yet still managed to be beautiful and tragic at the same time. A rare gem that will make you laugh (not as much as Fijians) and cry (almost).

Best Use of a Pizza Delivery Guy 30 MINUTES OR LESS. I mean come on. It’s not every day the main character is a loser pizza delivery guy that gets a bomb strapped to his chest and is forced to rob a bank.

The Oscars: proudly presented to you by Village Six Cinemas

And now, I present to you all, what I consider to be the Best Picture this year. This is the film that I enjoyed above all others. It has a fantastic cast, an engaging yet bittersweet story, and like The Descendants, managed to walk the line between hilarity and heartbreak with poise and sensitivity. It was also one of only a few movies I’ve seen where the lucky dip presented me with a vanilla choc top instead of coffee.

The winner of this year’s Best Picture goes to – CRAZY STUPID LOVE.

I was SO close to writing a terrible pun about me being crazy and stupid for loving it….I’m glad I dodged that landmine.

Please note: these films are not in any particular order. As I said before, I have very probably forgotten to list several movies that I’ve seen and then forgot about. Blame it on the all too frequent choc top overdoses.