Kookoo for coconuts

I’ve finally found a way to beat the hot Fiji heat.
For months I'd been trying to cool down by drinking cold beverages, but they didn’t seem to do anything for me.
Even Gatorade’s mighty electrolyte – known universally for its ability to refresh and rehydrate – was no match for the scorching Suva sun.
Then it hit me.
Well, thankfully it didn’t actually hit me, because that could have been painful.
Coconuts.
After all, the topical fruit is filled with sweet nectar, and Suva is littered with street vendors hawking freshly picked coconuts.
A few weeks ago, on my way home from the gym, I bought my first coconut off of a vendor for the economical price of $1.
Dying of thirst, I asked the teenage vendor to open the shell for me so I could drink it right away. He pulled out a machete – which seems to be the Fijian equivalent of the Swiss Army Knife, in the sense that everyone carries one – and chopped off the top of the coconut.
As I walked down the street sipping on my coconut, I noticed I was getting some strange looks from passing people. Then I realized that I must look pretty funny drinking straight from a coconut shell.
It’s hard to feel manly while you’re sipping fruit juice out of an edible cup. Drinking a beverage out of a coconut is something middle-aged women do at tropical resorts. One could even make the argument that it’s a rather fruity thing for a man to do.
Suddenly embarrassed, I contemplated what I could do to regain my masculinity. Tough guys are known to drink cans of beer and then crush the can on their head. Maybe I cold try that with my coconut? No, I would probably just end up with a concussion.
Perhaps double-fisting coconuts would make me look cooler? But that wouldn’t work either because it takes two hands to hold the coconut.
I could get the vendor to chop another hole in the coconut, and then I could shotgun its contents, but that could get messy.
Instead, I quickly walked home and enjoyed the remainder of my coconut inside my house. After drinking the fluid, I scooped out the fruit’s flesh with a spoon – it was delicious.
And I was hooked.
With each passing day I purchased another coconut and slowly grew more confident drinking them in public.
Soon I didn’t care if people stared at me as I gulped down a coconut; they’re probably just wish they had one too.
Now I’m proud to be a coconut connoisseur.

Linda, I've a feeling we're not at the Westin anymore

*Guest blogger Linda writes about her experience in Fiji*
To the Western world Fiji appears to be another tropical destination that most can’t find the time to visit or simply is unaware of its existence. Many individuals believe the tiny island is part of the Caribbean – not knowing it’s on the other side of the world. Meaning, no one really has an extensive knowledge on this small Pacific nation supposedly known as “paradise” and I’m no exception.
My boyfriend has been there for more than four months prior to my visit, and although I had read every one of his blog entries and spoke with him countless times a day about his experiences, I had absolutely no idea what I was up against. My first indication of the hard times approaching was the purchase of my flight, where I soon realized I would endure a 24-hour plane ride and a 14-hour time difference before I would see the grand Pacific ocean. But, once again, ignorance is bliss; 24 hour flights have nothing on me! I'm infamously known to fall asleep anytime and anywhere – especially when there’s a movie involved. I even made a sincere attempt to stay up the night before my journey so I'd guarantee my exhausted state and my boarding of that dreaded, early morning flight. Unfortunately I failed (miserably) and I slept the entire drive to the airport. By the time I arrived I had slept a decent amount of hours and was not overly tired.
To spare you the gory details I survived the flight(s) and eventually find myself face-to-face with the person I miss and resent the most – my boyfriend. (Resentment is what forms when someone leaves you to deal with your first winter alone).
Delirious, eyes half open and trying to account for all of my luggage, I’m completely unaware of the amazing resort he has taken me to, thinking I was just going to his apartment four hours away in the capital city, Suva.
As Soon as I’m led into my new room, I’m in heaven. There, before me, sits a king-size bed with the perfect duvet and air conditioning that filled the room overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I had never seen anything more beautiful and nothing agreed with me more. With a quick (and by quick I mean rather lengthy) shower I fell into the bed and drifted into a deep sleep and my winter blues instantly dissipated.
As an early riser, I made no exception on my vacation. I woke at an hour most would find ungodly, and, eventually growing impatient, I was forced to wakeup my partner.
We strolled downstairs to see the largest breakfast buffet and it lacked NOTHING! My vacation continued to be getting better and better.
After a few days at the resort, I knew my time was running out. We would have to make the four-hour drive back to Suva where Dale lives, and I’d be expected to survive under much harsher living conditions. Two famous lines that formulated in this city were “I'm going to be sick!” (referring to the heat combined with the lack of air conditioning) and “this country has almost been the end of me on multiple occasions!” I can't seem to live them down either.
Once I had set up camp at his apartment, meaning I had covered every inch of his place in girly attire, smelly lotions and shoes galore, I set my sights on pure optimism. It couldn't be that bad! After all, I’d spent 5 years in Texas, and the south is known for its insanely high temperatures. Approximately 10 minutes later I found myself sitting in front of the fan … just sitting. It was all I could do! My optimism vanished.
My boyfriend, being the enthusiast, constantly cheered me on, coaxing me through the days; this is something that almost sent me into murderous action on several occasions. To pile the negative on thick, I was also stared at by several locals like I was a circus tramp there to perform tricks; I was followed at an uncomfortable, rather close and frightening distance; cars honked at me while my significant other was within viewing distance; and I endured a type of heat I’d never experienced before. The rules in Western society most certainly didn’t apply here.
But now, home, looking back, I consider it one of the greatest learning experiences in my life. I met some exceptional people, saw some amazing things and, most of all, opened my eyes to my sheltered life and received some perspective on what really matters to me. I'm thankful for every day I was able to spend on the island and the people that contributed to such an incredible trip. I'll miss my travel companion dearly and continue to count the days until he returns. But falling asleep the last night sans air conditioning (once again) was enough to make me wish I could close my eyes, tap my heels three times and think to myself, “There's no place like home.”

Hot hot heat

While my fellow Canadians are suffering from an especially harsh winter this year, I’m on the other side of the world enduring the opposite misery.
I’m too hot.
Because Fiji is located in the southern hemisphere, summer starts in December. While I may have escaped the Canadian winter, I walked straight into a topical inferno.
I know some of you reading this are going to say, “So what, hot is way better than cold.”
But is it really?
Why then is Hell scorching hot instead of icy cold?
Although I personally have never visited Satan's lair, I imagine it’s only a few degrees warmer than Suva.
The heat is unlike any heat I’ve ever experienced. Yes there’s humidity, but the sun is the real killer.
I spend my days carefully avoiding the sun like I owed it money. I run my errands early in the morning while the sun is still tolerable. Walking down the street, I seek the shelter of every shadow I see, however small. Sometimes I wish I had a tall companion to walk beside so I could enjoy the coolness of his shadow. But then I snap out of my heat-induced craziness and remember nobody is taller than me.
I see Fijians carrying umbrellas on sunny days, and I wish my pride would allow me to do the same.
Even though it’s sweltering outside, I wear long-sleeved shirts to protect myself from the merciless sun.
It’s a good thing Hart went home in December because as a red-haired Irishman, he wouldn’t make it though the summer.
Even in December the sun was starting to overtake him. He would be house-bound for days after sunburns, and he even began wearing a windbreaker outside.
Now I know how he felt.
One of the worst parts about the heat is trying to sleep at night. Even the moon seems to radiate warmth.
While looking for an apartment I was adamant about having hot water, but now I take only cold showers.
I find myself seeking refuge from the heat at the air-conditioned movie theatre. But there’s only one problem: the movies here are terrible. However, I’d rather endure two hours of horrible Bollywood acting than two hours of horrendous heat.
As a Canadian I appreciate each of our four seasons. Although winter can be painful, it makes us appreciate summer when it finally comes around.
Hot, sunny weather all year long may sound appetizing, but remember, everything is better in moderation.