Why I'm not afraid anymore

On our second day here in Nadi a tall skinny beautiful blonde woman arrived. Alyssi, or Alison, I'm not sure which to call her because she goes by both. We were already in a low point coming down from the best 4 days of our lives in Haliewa and had felt a bit intimidated by the unwanted attention from men in the airport and on the beach.It is very easy to be afraid of the unknown. Anyway there we sat in the office of our hostel when she walked in. Right away she began speaking to us about going to the disco tonight, Adam would drive us, and it would be fun. She told us about living in a Fijian village and warned us against the dangers here. She told us to never use ATMs, not to wear jewelry out in public, and never look men in the eyes. She said not to smile at men or out in public and scared us away from even walking across the street to another near by hostel. She told us stories of almost being raped and beheaded in her village, and that she always had a body guard with her. Needless to say, she scared the shit out of us.

We began wondering what we were doing here, what the hell we'd continue to do here, and decided to stay more or less in our hostel; it was safer not to venture out much. That night and this morning again the workers at the hostel asked me what the crazy tall blonde lady had told us. They were worried about her scaring us and reassured me again and again that there was nothing to fear. One of the workers even hinted at her having a mental break and going off the deep end. Other backpackers too shared stories of her, she told one girl how her husband had tried to chop her up and feed her to sharks. I began feeling safer knowing this woman had definitely exaggerated and there was no reason to be so fearful.

 This morning, though the sky was grey with the leftovers of last nights thunder storm, we rented bicycles and rode into town. The landscape was breathtaking, endless green, palm trees everywhere, light rain drops cooling us off. We passed villages of little houses, children swinging in their yards, mothers holding their children, little boys sweeping the dirt from the one roomed house into the yard. We passed clothes lines holding socks, tiny underwear, onesies. Women waiting for the bus, elegantly dressed, singing with the voices of angels. When we finally got into town we found a crafts market dripping with handmade jewelry, wooden turtles, sarongs and persistent salesmen. After browsing we found a DVD shop, something we had been looking for because the internet connection is so slow here. We wandered in and two little girls holding hands followed us in. They looked up at us with big eyes, long lashes, curious minds and asked where were we from? Australia? Where did we get our bikes? They giggled and pretended to look around the shop before finally leaving. We found our DVDs and rode home. "Bula!" yelled the men selling coconuts on the streets. "Chilo!" we said as we past the boys walking on the sidewalk, "Excuse me! Vanaka!" and they smiled, returning a "Bula!" As we rode home, a car passed and beeped, two of the local girls we have befriended smiled and waved out the window at us. We knew we'd see them upon returning to our hostel.

 I could have ridden for hours, had we rented the bikes for the full day.But we finally arrived back at our home base, where our friends giggled at us and spoke of how cute we looked riding down the road. When we first spoke to Alyssi we were so worried about spending a full two weeks here. Today I thought to myself how happy I am we have so long here, there is so much to discover, and I am so excited, not that I'm not afraid.

 "Bula" is how you greet people here, it means "life." And what a beautiful life it really is