Friday, March 1, 2013

Summary of Suva

It's been awhile since I've written a thorough post, and I hope this post will end the drought my blog has been experiencing.

Suva has been treating me absolutely wonderfully.  I'd like to shed some light on this.

I was wondering how heading back into dorm life, after escaping it last semester, would treat me.  There are two downfalls that I can think of.  First, there's no oven here.  Second, the campus and dorms are alcohol free.  For the past couple of months I've grown quite accustomed to ordering a beer with every meal, or grabbing a cold beer, each time I visited a store/shop that sells some, to enjoy later.  Last weekend, some international friends threw a pool party and it was BYOB.  "No big deal," I thought to myself "I'll just go to the nearest store (happened to be MH), buy some, then bring it back and store it in the fridge.  It'll be nice and cold by the time the party starts."  I found some 750 ml Fiji Bitters on sale for 3.62 FJD, bought two (which triggered the woman behind the counter to jokingly ask me if two would be enough, to which I cordially replied that I'd be back if I needed more), finished buying groceries, hopped in a taxi, and headed back to USP.  At the gate, I suddenly remembered that I could not have my beers on campus!  As the taxi passed the gate, I quickly pretended to look for my lost change in the seat and, at the same time, shove my bag of beer out of the guard's sight.  I noticed him suspiciously looking at me, and quickly blurted "Bula!", smiled, and wave.  It was probably the most unconvincing "I'm up to no good" reaction I could have given, but before the guard could act the taxi drove away.  As we "taxied" (nice pun, no?) up the road to 10th hall (where I stay), I asked the driver to take me as close as possible to my dorm.  He happily agreed and dropped me off about 20 meters away from the stairs to my flat.  Trotting down to the stairs proved sketchy as well, because, as the bag waved with the cadence of my stride, the bottles clanged loudly. I managed to get to my room without anyone noticing, which was great.  What wasn't so great, though, was that I couldn't store the beer in the fridge.  My flatmates probably wouldn't care, but if my RA were to stroll through and have a gander at the contents of our fridge, I'd be pinned.  So I opted to store the bottles in my backpack, and then slide it under my bed.  The party wasn't for several hours, so by then they'd be quite warm.  I couldn't have executed buying beer for the party any worse.  All that carrying and sneaking would only account for two warm beers. Turned out to be fine, though, because four of us decided to pool our  money together to make jungle juice for the party. The recipe required beer, cold or not. In fact, if you'd like to try it yourself, here's Anthony To's jungle juice recipe:

12 750ml Fiji Bitters
750ml Vodka
about 2 gallons of Juice (we used pineapple juice)
6 or so packets of juice powder (Kook-Aid for example)
half a watermelon, chopped up
ice

Mix it all in a large tub, and have a great time.

The locals are genuinely nice people.  If you smile at them, they'll send a warm smile back at you every time   I'm not so sure we Americans could say the same thing.  Thailand was just as friendly.  After being absorbed in such friendly atmospheres for the past couple of months, it'll be interesting to see how Americans compare when I return home.

Being a minority has been a new and eye opening experience for me.  I, as well as my international counterparts, stick out quite a lot.  Yesterday I mistakenly went to class an hour early.  Some locals in the same class did the same thing, and, knowing that I was in their class, asked me where lecture was being held.  I, obviously, didn't recognize them as being in my class, so I was a bit shocked when they asked me so surely.  It got me thinking a bit.  I was that white guy at class, and everyone knew it.  There's no hiding in a crowd here; I'll always stick out.  It made me ponder how I was perceived by everyone around campus, and it made me believe that, now more than ever, it is important to act appropriately everywhere you go.  If a local where to act in a peculiar way, he/she could assimilate into the crowd and everyone else would just forget.  If I were to act in a peculiar way, I wouldn't have that luxury; they'd remember and label me.

I've been going to the gym quite a lot recently.  It has been about two weeks now, and my body is slowly growing bigger.  Yesterday was slightly embarrassing for me, because I could only bicep curl 6 kilograms.  I did do four sets: 10 reps each.  Even still, it's a bit humiliating.  Now I'm probably that white and weak guy.  No matter, that's why I'm going to the gym: to change that.  In fact, I'm going to head there now.  Anthony isn't feel well so I'm going to have to go by myself.  No problem, he's taught me most of what I need to know to get a good lift in.  Sometimes I wonder what Mr. Streit (a high school teacher of mine) would think if he saw me lifting.  I had always given him, and the rest of the track staff, such a hard time when it came to lifting, because I had absolutely despised it.

Today is Olivia's, an Australian international student, birthday.  We plan on celebrating at O'Reilly's tonight; should be a good time.  Sunday, on the other hand, will probably prove to be terrible.  I can already feel the hangover starting, and I have yet to have a drink.