Thoughts On: Thoughts as I Write This Post.

We shall both discover what this post is about as we progress through it.

Money...  money money money money money.  It empowers you and it limits you.  Everyone can't seem to get enough of it.  Anthony and I were debating about if perfection is, by definition, God and God is, by definition, perfection. It was a long and heated debate, but still very civil, as are all of our debates.  I won't go into details, but one of my arguments struck me because it seemed as if my voice was talking to me.  At one point I said: "There's no such thing as a perfect amount of money."  Shortly after, I thought how weird that is.  We can never ever, no matter how much we try, have the perfect amount of money for ourselves.  You can have ample amounts or money or you can lack it; somewhere in between those two there doesn't exist a line that denotes a perfect amount: no optimum.  How odd.  Calculus tells us that a continuous function from point A to point B has, at most, one minimum and one maximum.  If we're talking about optimizations, something Calculus is very good at finding, we're able to quite easily compute that too.  If we were to represent our amount of money by use of a Cartesian plot, it would appear quite continuous.  There isn't a point, for example, were that "money" function is undefined, so shouldn't we able to compute an optimum amount? A perfect amount?  You might be able to narrow it down to a certain situation for a certain individual.  Say you have $6.02 in your pocket and you want to buy the Angus Burger Deluxe meal at the McDonald's in Marathon Wisconsin.  In that specific situation, you would have the perfect amount of money.  (I feel a bit troubled that I can remember the exact cost of a McDonald's burger but nothing else).  However, you'd be wanting more, because having no money in your pocket is not optimum; not perfect.  What's the perfect amount of money to be in your pockets anyway?   I'm still troubled by this thought, because the reason why greed exists is because there is no optimum; greed is always trying to get as much as it can because it doesn't know when to stop.  There is an optimum in box buiding, for example.  Say you're given a certain amount of wood and you're told to create a box with an optimum/maximum amount of space.  You can do that.  There's no better way of doing it; greed has no place in that situation.  Then again, in everything besides Math it seems that there may not be a perfect amount (if you could quantify it) of anything.  Say you're a marathon runner, and you win!  That's all well and good for you.  You had the best time for that specific race.  You might even have the best marathon time in the world, but you still didn't reach the perfect time, whatever that may be.  Say you're as fast as the speed of light!  Well then you would've completed the race in 0.0014 seconds.  That's pretty damn good, but what if you were faster than light, or would if... you completed the race before you started.  Isn't that better?  Marathon runners are "greedy" in the sense that they want to continue to lower their times; with no perfect time in mind.  Greedy is the wrong word to use here.  Greed's nice cousin goes by several names: determination, focus, motivation.  I would say the latter three are better suited for a marathon runner's description.

I may have gone off on a tangent,so now I'll attempt to elaborate on what started this post: money.  I clearly don't have a perfect amount of money.  I want to scuba dive here, for example, but if I did I wouldn't be able to afford to feed myself!  That doesn't really bother me a whole lot, because snorkeling is fantastic and quite satisfying.  The only reason why I want to get PADI certified is because my friends are: envy.  (I just discovered where I may be going with this post (greed, envy, ...).  Can you tell?)  Anyway, I have plenty of cash to be able to everything else here in Fiji, so I shouldn't be complaining. I'm living as full as I can; I have no regrets.

Someday, hopefully sooner than later, I shall follow my uncle Tim's footsteps by hopping on a motorcycle for over 2 weeks, see some beautiful sights, and sleep under the stars with, maybe, the mesh of a tent separating me from them.  How cool would it be to make it to Alaska in such a fashion!  If I had a dog and/or a girlfriend to join me that would be quite spectacular as well; no complaints there.  Problem is, at the moment anyway, I lack the money. 

I want to change this.  Money is crushing my ambitions and I despise that.  

I've started to learn more about back-end web technologies so I can make myself more relevant to the Freelance Web Development scene.  There is good money there and, best of all, I can do it while I travel.  In fact, I am doing while I travel!  I'm still getting paid from my employer back home to update and maintain websites.  It's a pretty sweet deal, but it's proving not enough.  I am admittedly being greedy because I want more money so I can travel more!  However, my greed does morph in motivation and determination.  It motivates me to learn, work hard (no Sloth for me!), and better myself.  

I unfortunately must be headed to a meeting now.  I'm the secretary for the University of the South Pacific International Student Associate and I have to take minutes.  Can't be late!  Although this is Fiji, and no one is ever on time.

Mount Korobaba

Yesterday I ascended the highest point in Viti Levu (the main island of Fiji) here's how it went.

Around 9:30 am I woke up and prepared myself for the day, filled my rice bowl with Mini Spooners (similar to Mini Wheats) and Devondale Full Cream Milk, and hopped on the internet to see where exactly Mount Korobaba was.  I remembered my friends: Liz, Alden, and Evan saying something about it being near "the" cement factory which I knew to be in Lami.  Google Earth confirmed this for me, and with that I geared up. I threw on my spandex, black running shorts, gray Smiley Invite cutoff, long black socks, hiking boots, and my Budweiser baseball cap.  My rain jacket, swimming shorts, camera , 2 liters of water, a pack of breakfast crackers, can of tuna, Twisties (chicken flavored), 3 small New Zealand Gala Apples, leathermans, fork, and a can opener became the contents of my backpack.  I looked absolutely absurd, but it didn't matter.  I was sure the mountain wouldn't mind.  

I set off, with a skip in my step, down the path leading away from 10th hall, and bumped into Michelle and her Mother, Mary.  We exchanged small talk, and I went on my merry way.  A short while after, I hopped on my first bus (cost: 70 cents) which took me to the bust station in downtown Suva.  It was from there, where the adventure began.  I found myself at the bus station and not having the slightest clue which bus to board.  Lami, I remembered the town next to the Mountain was Lami, so I began looking for a bus that was headed there, and I discovered there were two, but they were absent at the time.  So there I stood, with my short shorts, hiking boots, baseball cap, white skin, and a smile in a crowd of Fijians waiting for the bus.  The first pulled up, but, after asking the driver if his route went passed the cement factory, I discovered it wasn't the bus to take.  The second, however, turned out to be the right one, and for a buck fifty I was able to reach my destination.  "Alright, I'm on my way" I thought to myself as I sat down towards the back of the bus.  My excitement grew when the bus began to pull away from the station and take me towards my destination.  Problem was, I wasn't quite sure were to get off.  I asked the gentleman next to me if he knew where I should get off.  Turned out he was Samoan and hadn't a clue.  I asked the two people in front of me, one woman and one man who didn't know each other, if they could help me out.  The woman was quiet, but the man, a middle aged Indo-Fijian, was happy to give me advice: "200 meters passed Novotel."   I didn't know where Novotel was, so I asked him if he could clue me when to pull the cord to let the bus driver know that I wanted to get off.  He was getting off before my destination, so he couldn't quite help me there.  No matter, I decided to just wait until he got off, and then I'd begin looking for the hotel.  I didn't trust myself, so I headed up to the front and asked the bus driver and his attendant if they could help me get off at the right spot; they were happy to help.  The attendant said "TWO MORE!" and I replied "STOPS?"; he nodded.  

Seven stops later I  was told I was where I need to be, and sure enough to the right of the bus was the cement factory.  A policeman exited the bus, I followed him, and made my way towards the cement factory. It was there that I found myself, yet again, at a loss for where to go next.  I looked around; there was no sign.  There was nothing that let me know that I was in the right spot.  Sure there was a mountain near me, but it wasn't alone, there were many other mountains too.  I wasn't sure which one to climb.  I yelled for the policeman, now several hundred meters away from me, in hopes for his knowledge.  He didn't hear me, and continued to walk away.  I tried asked two gentlemen, who where waiting for a bus, if they had any idea where to go.  One said "that way" and mentioned down the road.  I asked if he knew specifically how to get up.  He shook his head, and suggested that I find a local (he appeared to be a local to me).  Since there were no more locals around I proceed "that way."  "That way" didn't seem to be the right way, so I turned around and headed back towards where I came from.  There were two women standing near the spot where I had approached the two gentlemen earlier.  They were no luck.  I then asked a Chinese man (in English) if he had any idea where the path was.  He responded with "I don't know" after several questions.  It very well could've been all that he knew (of English anyway).  After the Chinese man, whom I found a dozen meters away from the women, I headed back to where the women were because in their place now stood two different Fijian guys. Bracing to be let down, I asked them if they knew the way up the mountain.  The taller one looked at me and said, "Yes, and I'll take you there!"

Away we went! Just like that, I had two Fijian guides who were excited to climb the mountain with me.  The taller one introduced himself as Dan.  Bill was the younger one.  Dan was 26, Bill was 19.  They were looking for work at the dock.  Apparently, every now and then, they help load the fishing boats with ice, but today there wasn't any work for them.  My suspicion of their intentions grew when Dan told me that.  Firstly, why would anyone simply agree to take a total stranger the entire way up a mountain on a whim?  Secondly, since they didn't find work, I thought maybe they intended to make a quick buck off of me.  It wouldn't be hard to overpower me in the woods and take my things.  I was on to them, but I let the scenario play out a bit.  Down the road we proceeded towards a Chinese construction site, making small talk along the way.  I guess it wasn't an issue being in a construction zone, even though there were live wires from welding machines everywhere and cranes hoisting large steel objects over our heads.  We smiled at the Chinese workers as we strolled through, and they smiled right back.  After clearing the site, we approached a dirt road that appeared to make its way up the mountain.  Dan suggested that we take a shortcut instead, and motioned for me to follow him through a small path that didn't quite seam to go the right way.  This added to my suspicion even further, and soon after entering the trail I had to declare what was on my mind to them.  I told them that, where I come from, we are told to be weary of strangers, especially ones that would enthusiastically claim to join you for a multi-hour hike up a mountain.  I also told him that I was told that sometimes some Fijians will take advantage of lone hikers; steal their belongings and make a quick buck.  At this, Dan turned around, looked me in the eye, shook my hand, smiled and assured me that there was no funny business here and that we were simply going to enjoy a long hike together.  On paper, this doesn't seem convincing, but the way he said it and the way he laughed at the idea let me relax a little. I decided to trust them, and proceed forward.  Besides, I was much bigger than Bill, and I had my leathermans (which has a knife) if I really got in trouble.

On our merry way we went!  After I expressed my concerns to them, I found it easy to converse and learned a lot about Dan and his background.  He was quite knowledgeable about the animals we stumbled across, and he knew the area well.  There were two streams that had perfectly clear pools which intersected our path.  Turned out that they were suitable to drink from.  I know this, because I'm living proof (going on 36 hours and still no adverse side effects).  Clay, either soft and squishy or hard and slippery, constituted the path.  On the steepest parts of the ascent, roots became nice footholds.  We made good time, only stopped twice, and, after about an hour and a half, we had reached the summit!  

Several meters below the summit someone had pitched a tent, from tarp, and slapped a bed inside.  It looked sturdy, and appeared to have been there for quite awhile.  The summit itself yielded an absolutely stunning view of Suva and of Fiji.  The cement factory, from where we started, seemed several miles away.  We were able to see the entirety of Suva.  Tappo City, and the port were discernible even at such a far distance.  After admiring the view of Suva, I had a look around the entire island and was shocked to realize that I could nearly see the entire thing!  We could see the entire southern part of the island, we could see nearly all of the eastern side, mountains blocked our view of the western side, but to the north we could see the ocean way in the distance!  At that moment did I realize the small size of Fiji, and I couldn't help but feel slightly claustrophobic.  I come form a land of rolling fields and vast forest; I'm not used to being able to see the entirety of the land that I live on.  It was mind blowing.

We enjoyed the food that I packed, and they shared with me different facts about Fiji.  They pointed out Snake Island, Mosquite Island, Kadavu (from where Dan hails), and a Chinese Vessel making its way out of port.  For several hours, we sat there and talked and marveled the view. Eventually, we decided to make our descent.  

Proving their kindness ever more, they waited with me until the bus came.  I was, and still am, blown away by how nice they were to a complete stranger.  How does one quickly and enthusiastically decide to spend an entire day with someone they don't know?  I had a great time, and all credit goes to Dan and Bill.  They have reminded me, yet again, that I am not fully independent and that I can't do everything alone.  Without them, I would've never found the way up the hill.  Without the kind people on the bus, I would've never known where to get off.  There's a saying: "It's not what you know, it's who you know" and it's usually applied to careers.   I, however, feel that it applies quite well to my experience that day; maybe a bit too literally.  I didn't know anything, but I was lucky enough to know people that did.

Dan on the left, and Bill on the right.  I'll never forget these two, or the wonderful experience they gave me.