NASCAR and E-tickets

Walt Disney's Board of Directors figured out they were losing the opportunity to make more money at Disneyland because people were afraid of some of the rides. Many of you recall (and many of you won't) that at Disneyland, customers would buy a book of tickets - A through E - and E-tickets were the best. The Matterhorn, Pirates of the Caribbean, Haunted House etc. were the E-ticket rides. Well, I figure one of the reasons they went to a one-price park admission is because people would chicken out on the E ticket rides (which were of course the most expensive ticket) and not buy as many tickets. So they probably decided to charge everyone to get in the park and then it didn't matter if they chickened out.

You're probably thinking "WTF is Matt talking about?" We'll get there.

You hear a lot about "Fiji Time" - the understanding which essentially means things happen . . . eventually. It's generally true and amazing. Things do ultimately get done. Someone will say something starts at 1, and it may start by 3:15, but it happens and people walk away satisfied. No one is pissed off that the meeting didn't start on time, firing off nasty emails on the blackberry about how so-and-so is a loser jerk who doesn't deserve the Lexus he drives . . . I digress. The point is, things get done and Fiji time is not a myth, but a way of life.

There is one exception to the Fiji time mentality.

They say the national sport in Fiji is Rugby. I am inclined to believe that actually it's tailgating. Everything here operates on an island time pace until you get into a motorized vehicle. There are 4 kinds. Cars, Taxis, Buses, and Minibuses. Cars, which are operated by private citizens, seem to be mostly normal. Taxis and buses are somewhat crazy. Minibuses are a whole different thing.

Excuse my language, but these people are f*&%ing insane.

Most of you have been on the Matterhorn at Disneyland, or the Big Dipper roller coaster in Santa Cruz. For those of you on the other coast or out of country, just think of a rickety roller coaster, where part of the thrill is thing is gonna derail and send you flying into sharp objects or distant bodies of water. Now you have an idea of what happens to the heart rate when riding in a Minibus in Fiji.

For instance, tonight I was coming back from Suva to Sigatoka. This is about a 2 hour trip. Remember, that most people in Fiji (actually, everyone) really doesn't give a rats ass whether it takes 2 hours or 3 hours. Our clear preference is that we arrive at our destination breathing and in one piece. But the people who drive the Minibuses have a different idea.

Minibuses here are more often than not older (think late 80's early 90's) Toyota Cargo Vans - the longish, skinny vans that look like they would roll over if you sneezed on them. Here, they put in 3 rows of seats in the back, seating 3 across, and put two passengers in the front seat next to the driver, so all-in you've got 12 people in the van. It is the single purpose of every driver to make sure the van is full at all times, pretty much no matter what. So, they don't leave on schedule, they leave when they are full. If they are not full, they tease the people who are in the van by leaving the station (oh boy, we're leaving!), but then they troll around town looking for more victims, er, passengers. Then, once they have filled up the van, we're on the road! But usually we stop at the gas station, where they put in $20 or whatever, chat with the gas station guy, talk to the girlfriend on the phone, whatever. One time, it was over an hour between the time the van first started moving and when we actually left town. Fiji time!

Until we get going for real. OK, (Tony W. in North Carolina will appreciate this) Jeff Gordon, Jimmy Johnson, Richard Petty, Cale Yarborough - none of those guys have anything on the Minibus drivers. Nascar drivers drive tricked out cars that are low to the ground on smooth race tracks, and with the exception of a couple times a year, they only have to turn left. All they have to contend with are other drivers who are GOING IN THE SAME DIRECTION. Fiji Minibus drivers have lots more to deal with.

First, there is their phone, which is usually two phones (a lot of them have 2 - I don't know why). They are ringing, sometimes simultaneously, which means they have to answered, but often the driver doesn't know where the phone is - it could be in the door, or their pants pocket, or their shirt pocket, or their hand. But that's nothing compared to the other things they have to deal with.

The road from Suva to Sigatoka is a 2 lane road (one in each direction). There are a couple of passing lanes. It's a 122 kilometer (76 mile) drive. There are several competing goals. They all seem like they are most important. But clearly the most important goal is to PASS THE VEHICLE IN FRONT OF YOU AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE NO MATTER WHAT.

You know the single-minded purpose yellow labs have with tennis balls? That's what I'm talking about.

You know all of the stress I left behind in the states? Like everything else here, it's just different. Karmic balance in the works. Relax in Fiji? Sure, until you get in the minibus. Remember, we're in a Toyota tin can that has 857,345 miles on it, that might have decent tires, one shock absorber (because the roads destroyed the other three), with 12 people, one of whom is the driver who is most likely talking on the phone on a winding, often wet road, with the single-minded purpose of PASSING THE VEHICLE IN FRONT OF HIM AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE! Because the roads are often winding, we find ourselves waiting for an opportunity to pass and it is evidently very important to be as close to the vehicle in front of you as possible. If it's at night, I guess it's helpful to flash your brights at the vehicle in front of you incessantly, even though they may be in a van that has one cylinder functioning and is billowing smoke that would make Smokey the Bear roll over in his hibernating cave.

For 2 hours.

I will say though, they are incredibly kind about switching on their turn indicator (blinker) on when passing - for whose benefit I'm not entirely sure. I think everyone knows what the intent is here.

Fortunately there are breaks along the way. Most villages have speed bumps (thank God). There are hills, and these Toyotas with 12 people in them can't go fast going up those hills. Of course, what goes up must come down. So think of the impending excitement you feel when the roller coaster is climbing, the clicking of the chain pulling the car up, certain you are going to be flung out of the car when you start down again. Because when the van is full, it goes faster!

Of course, not everyone in the van is going all the way to the final destination (I know, perhaps not the best choice of words). So, occasionally we drop someone off and three of those bastards we passed pass us, which means WE HAVE TO PASS THEM AGAIN! This happens several times during the trip. Because once you drop someone off, it means there's an empty seat, so if someone is on the side of the road (in Fiji someone is ALWAYS on the side of the road) we have to pick them up, which of course allows more of those dreaded cars to pass us again. These are like unscheduled pit stops during a race. The drivers all seem to step it up a notch after a drop off or a pick up.

I think we pass the same 8-10 vehicles 8-10 times. Seriously.

Unless there's a truck that's packed impossibly full with sugar cane - which by the way they pack sideways so the cane is wider than the truck, often wider than the lane. And it's going REALLY SLOW which means there's a line of vehicles wanting to pass - that's when it gets really interesting. It's like the beginning of the Daytona 500 race - as soon as there's an opening, it's green flag time.

I have thought of all of the angles. If the van is full, it can't go as fast uphill, but goes faster downhill. Less people, faster acceleration leading to increased driver confidence (not a good thing) and the ability to pass. The road being wet seems to have no bearing on driver speed. I'm not sure what is best where the roll factor is concerned (full of people or not). However, one phone is definitely better than two.

Oh, and there are no seat belts with the exception of the front seat passenger, which again, I'm not sure if that's a good thing. These Toyota vans engines are underneath the car, not in the front (I know this because I can feel them overheating underneath my feet). So the seat belt would theoretically keep the passenger in place insuring that his legs would get crushed in the event of a head-on crash as opposed to getting thrown clear through the windshield if you weren't wearing it - I don't know. But if it rolled, you would definitely want the seat belt, so there's that . . .

Let's just say it's an E Ticket without rails.

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I started tutoring some kids this week. The couple in the village who work have a son, Peni, who is in 8th grade. In a couple of weeks, he has to test in order to move on to secondary school. Because they work, he gets to go to secondary school (about $800 a year). Then, there are a couple of girls, one in 7th grade the other in 8th who live in Lawai (a village down the road from us) who want some extra help. And then there's another 7th grader from my village who showed up.

This is really interesting. These kids are SO hungry to learn. They insisted that I make rules for the ad hoc classroom we have created. Then they told me the first rule is that all of us have to speak English while we're in the classroom. And they brought me a chair (Fijians don't generally have chairs in the village - everyone sits on mats on the ground). We have a broken chalkboard and I bought some chalk. When I went to Suva I picked up a volleyball and a soccer ball so we can have recess. They want to work everyday and Saturdays.

I didn't initiate any of this. I don't think any of the parents did anything. It was all the kids idea.

So this has me thinking again (ok - insert joke here). What I am most struck by is the appetite. They want help with the solids - english, math and science. Especially english. Fijians do ALL schooling in english. First grade (there is no formal kindergarten) through University is taught in english. Everything in the court system (including all contracts) are in english - english is the national language after all. But, virtually everyone, even in the cities, speaks Fijian or Hindi when in social settings. Consequently, their english is often broken. These kids don't speak english particularly well, but they write really well.

Anyway, back to the hunger. No big dissertation here, just a note on how it struck me they are so curious. They really want to learn. And it's not pushed by their parents. They just want to know. It's completely genuine. And it's really cool. I said "does anyone want to go on a field trip?" and they just about went through the roof. We could take the bus (not a minibus) into Sigatoka and they would be delighted. It occurs to me they're not distracted. Education isn't taken for granted. I think there's one TV in the whole village and no one is watching it. There's no money to speak of. Don Draper (sorry - Mad Men reference - Don Draper is on Madison Ave and is an advertising guru) hasn't reached them yet. They're pure. And that makes me think it's really easy to be a kid here and really hard to be one in the states. And that makes me sad.

I don't know what the answer is or if there is one. I am going to work with them. It's so much fun. They are so much fun. They are so hungry.

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There is a huge battle in the village for sleep, at least for me. And it is a pretty even battle at this point. I've documented the Incredibly Loud Methodist Delivery System (ILMDS). That continues to be in the mix. Alas, there are two other, more bothersome, factors.

Roosters and dogs.

We have lots of roosters. And unlike mid-American lore regarding sunrise, they crow here at all hours all of the time. Seemingly at each other. With no relation to the sunrise. Evidently no one told them they're supposed to wait until the sun comes up. Their favorite time seems to be between 2:00 and 4:00 AM. My guess is they don't want to compete with the ILMDS. It seems that a couple of them are especially fond of coming up to my door and crowing. The earplugs are inadequate for those assaults.

However, the dogs are worse. Dog lovers be forewarned. This message may contain material unsuitable for dog lovers. I have joked over the years with some of you that I want to come back as a dog. Particularly for the belly rubs. Also for the guilt-free sleep at the drop of a hat. And the unrestrained pure joy of chasing a ball into the water. Oh, and girls come up to you and pet you and tell you how cute you are. And . . . well, you get the point.

Well, not so much in Fiji.

You don't want to be a dog here. I'm not sure why they have dogs here. Because they don't treat them as pets. They feed them scraps (I think). Or the dogs scavenge to feed themselves. You see a lot of dog ribs here. The people don't seem to particularly abuse dogs. They just don't take care of them as pets. They don't spay or neuter. Bob Barker evidently doesn't have much sway in Fiji. We have a lot of dogs in our village. Probably in the neighborhood of a dozen or so (remember we have less than 80 people). During the day our dogs mostly stay out of the way and sleep.

But come nighttime, oh my. They bark. A lot. Often all night. At each other. Unless they're mating. Really loud. Right outside my door with the roosters cheering them on. It's like an animal version of the pawn shop basement scene in Pulp Fiction on my front porch. The dogs happily compete with the Methodist Delivery System and often pummel it - completely drown out the message.

(Note: As I type this it is 12:03 AM and 5 dogs just started barking for the night. I'm not making this up).

So, I reckon I will have to learn to sleep like a dog during the day.

Finally (sorry it's been a long one), please feel free to write back. A few of you have written back with observations from your own experiences and it's wonderful to receive those emails. I do know you are all very busy, and I certainly don't expect it - but if you feel the urge, please indulge. It's greatly appreciated.

Maciu