For a country that is famous for its poor observance of time, I’ve noticed that clocks are in abundance. Most people are wearing watches which are constantly being checked. But does this mean a shift in culture has started to occur?
We’ve been warned by our in-country manager (ICM) that punctuality and attendance will be of upmost importance to us. Our first day of formal orientation comes around. We’ve run down to the end of the street allowing 15 minutes to get from our hotel to the Univeristy of the South Pacific(USP). A taxi is hailed and with a flurry we throw ourselves into the taxi which speeds towards USP. We powerwalk to the conference room and sit ourselves down. Great – we’re on time. It’s 9:00. Our ICM is yet to arrive, and so we wait. We chat amongst ourselves. And we wait some more. Surely he’s just around the corner. It’s 9:15. Must be caught in traffic. The four of us ask each other what the time is. I think my clock must be faster than everyone else. It’s not that late. 9:20 arrives. L checks her watch. It’s 9:22. Surely 5 minutes just went by. We discuss ideas as to what an appropriate amount of time to wait is. 20 minutes? 30 minutes? 45? An hour? 9:30 meanders by and soon it is 9:40. No sign that our ICM has arrived. We all look to one another, confused. His foot is probably giving him troubles. Maybe it’s a test? Perhaps we’re actually in the wrong place. Would it be rude to call to ask him where he is?
After a well-planned, politeness-plus phone call, his car rolls in from around the corner. Our ICM saunters into the room – “I have just exemplified the lateness that you may experience from your colleagues. Now tell me, who here felt frustrated?”
Friday, July 30, 2010
Getting to know Fiji
We have just landed at Nadi airport. The outside temperature is 28 degrees and humid.
It was 9 degrees when we left Brisbane. Remind me: how does 28 degrees and humid actually feel? Bloody fantastic. My cracked lips have since become worthy of a lipstick advertisement, the skin on my face has worked out its own auto-moisturising system and I am pretty certain that I’ve brought with me one jumper too many for this trip.
Music fills our ears as we are greeted by a trio of singing men Bula shirts and sulus. I look over to M as the music inspires toothy smiles across both our faces. We’re in common knowledge – we’ve finally made it to beautiful Fiji.
We meet our hosts in the arrivals area. There are warm handshakes and pleasant smiles exchanged. Both parties have waited so long for this moment to finally arrive. They say that the average length of an awkward silence in the Pacific is 17seconds. I think excitement killed any awkward silence that was supposed to happen.
Being called to go find a house…to be continued…
It was 9 degrees when we left Brisbane. Remind me: how does 28 degrees and humid actually feel? Bloody fantastic. My cracked lips have since become worthy of a lipstick advertisement, the skin on my face has worked out its own auto-moisturising system and I am pretty certain that I’ve brought with me one jumper too many for this trip.
Music fills our ears as we are greeted by a trio of singing men Bula shirts and sulus. I look over to M as the music inspires toothy smiles across both our faces. We’re in common knowledge – we’ve finally made it to beautiful Fiji.
We meet our hosts in the arrivals area. There are warm handshakes and pleasant smiles exchanged. Both parties have waited so long for this moment to finally arrive. They say that the average length of an awkward silence in the Pacific is 17seconds. I think excitement killed any awkward silence that was supposed to happen.
Being called to go find a house…to be continued…
I have left Melbourne. Goodbye Mum and Dad, goodbye Ben. Goodbye friends and family. Farewell ex-colleagues. See you for now, my loved ones.
There are plenty of things I’ll be missing. Where do I even begin to tell you about the people and places that I will miss? Before I left, I stood at nightfall on Princes Bridge and soaked in as much Melbourne as I could. I watched the cars hurtling alongside trundling trams on St Kilda road and the whir of cyclists eager to return home to escape the cold rush of wind against their faces. My favourite bar “New Gold Mountain” tucked away in a Melbourne laneway which my friends and I have affectionately renamed “21”. Having tea with my dearest of friends at the Hopetoun Tearooms, attempting to pre-empt the taste of my travels-to-be with “Fiji” flavoured tea.
I’ll miss the dinnertime “conversations” with my family. We tend to talk AT each other rather than partaking in any constructive or reflective discussion. I talk at Ben. Mum nags at me. I talk back to mum. Ben lectures mum. And any remaining ears will hear Dad’s complaints about the day. Extended family dinners will also be missed. Our last gathering for my farewell saw us feasting on an extensive nasi-lemak. My extended family always manage to produce dinners that would be sufficient to solve world hunger.
Strangely enough, I think I’m going to miss working with the doddery aged clients in Melbourne Hospitals. There’s always a great story to tell when you’ve worked in Aged Care. For instance, let me tell you about Mr L. There I was in the middle of transferring Mr L. He was strapped to the “foolproof” standing machine with one broken arm across his belly and the mother of all slings around his waist. As the standing machine levitated his bottom into the air, his anxiety got the better of him. He began yelling out:
“My arm!! I can’t put my arm anywhere!!!!”.
My exasperated response: “Well that’s because your arm’s in a sling…”
Whilst this barrage of verbalised anxiety came at me from Mr L’s direction, a neighbouring patient came wandering into Mr L’s room. He came shuffling towards myself and Mr L. Shuffling completely stark naked. Naturally I froze in my tracks and uttered a feeble “Help?”. Long live code nude.
And lastly – Chocolate. My staple diet will either send me broke in Fiji or leave me standing in a shop in Suva with a nervous tick in my body as I stare longingly at the $20 block of Cadbury.
Today has finally come. See you later, Melbourne.
There are plenty of things I’ll be missing. Where do I even begin to tell you about the people and places that I will miss? Before I left, I stood at nightfall on Princes Bridge and soaked in as much Melbourne as I could. I watched the cars hurtling alongside trundling trams on St Kilda road and the whir of cyclists eager to return home to escape the cold rush of wind against their faces. My favourite bar “New Gold Mountain” tucked away in a Melbourne laneway which my friends and I have affectionately renamed “21”. Having tea with my dearest of friends at the Hopetoun Tearooms, attempting to pre-empt the taste of my travels-to-be with “Fiji” flavoured tea.
I’ll miss the dinnertime “conversations” with my family. We tend to talk AT each other rather than partaking in any constructive or reflective discussion. I talk at Ben. Mum nags at me. I talk back to mum. Ben lectures mum. And any remaining ears will hear Dad’s complaints about the day. Extended family dinners will also be missed. Our last gathering for my farewell saw us feasting on an extensive nasi-lemak. My extended family always manage to produce dinners that would be sufficient to solve world hunger.
Strangely enough, I think I’m going to miss working with the doddery aged clients in Melbourne Hospitals. There’s always a great story to tell when you’ve worked in Aged Care. For instance, let me tell you about Mr L. There I was in the middle of transferring Mr L. He was strapped to the “foolproof” standing machine with one broken arm across his belly and the mother of all slings around his waist. As the standing machine levitated his bottom into the air, his anxiety got the better of him. He began yelling out:
“My arm!! I can’t put my arm anywhere!!!!”.
My exasperated response: “Well that’s because your arm’s in a sling…”
Whilst this barrage of verbalised anxiety came at me from Mr L’s direction, a neighbouring patient came wandering into Mr L’s room. He came shuffling towards myself and Mr L. Shuffling completely stark naked. Naturally I froze in my tracks and uttered a feeble “Help?”. Long live code nude.
And lastly – Chocolate. My staple diet will either send me broke in Fiji or leave me standing in a shop in Suva with a nervous tick in my body as I stare longingly at the $20 block of Cadbury.
Today has finally come. See you later, Melbourne.
Need House...Need Internet!!!
More detailed posts to follow.
Quick update: have arrived safely and have been wandering around the streets of Lautoka, Nadi and Suva in the past week.
No semi-permanent accommodation/house for rent. The search for our new home continues.
Have limited internet access!!!
-Mobilised Manda
Quick update: have arrived safely and have been wandering around the streets of Lautoka, Nadi and Suva in the past week.
No semi-permanent accommodation/house for rent. The search for our new home continues.
Have limited internet access!!!
-Mobilised Manda
Sunday, July 18, 2010
The Questions
5 more sleeps until I'm off!
No, I have not packed.
Yes, I am excited.
No, I haven't got a place to stay yet.
Yes, I will be receiving an allowance.
Your frequently asked questions - answered by MobilisedManda.
No, I have not packed.
Yes, I am excited.
No, I haven't got a place to stay yet.
Yes, I will be receiving an allowance.
Your frequently asked questions - answered by MobilisedManda.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
A New Adventure
BULA!
Will be my preferred greeting for the next 12 months. Humidity will surround me for most hours of the day and as I move into "Pacific Time", those hours will lose their rigid boundaries. Kava will linger on my taste buds - or otherwise numb them and I will become amphibious with the amount of diving I plan to do.
I am about to embark on a year long journey to Suva, Fiji. I will be volunteering under the title of "Occupational Therapist" at a special school in Suva and working closely with a Physio-aide counterpart who is the school's sole Allied Health worker. By the end of this journey, I will be expected to have upskilled the Physio-Aide, write progress reports on 84 students, provided professional development to teachers and parents and assist in equipment modification - all in one year. When people think about Fiji, they think of paradise. When I think of the Fiji I'll get to know and the tasks I'll be performing at this school, I think I'll wet my pants - and it won't be the Pacific Ocean that's making things damp down there.
The good news is that I won't be on my lonesome for this adventure. A skeletal Allied Health team are on board - A Speech Pathologist, a Physiotherapist (myself) and a REAL Occupational Therapist. To break the monotony of "healthcare", a fourth will be on our crew - a Communications Officer. I'm also taking you, my readers with me. I will call upon you for advice and emotional support (hopefully this will be kept to a minimum). In return, I hope to give you an insight into my journey - the ups, the downs, the quirky and the numbness that comes with far too much Kava.
13 days until take-off....
Fast facts about FIJI:
Population: 828, 000
Official languages: English, Fijian, Hindu
332 islands, >500 islets covering 18,300 km2
Capital city: Suva
Will be my preferred greeting for the next 12 months. Humidity will surround me for most hours of the day and as I move into "Pacific Time", those hours will lose their rigid boundaries. Kava will linger on my taste buds - or otherwise numb them and I will become amphibious with the amount of diving I plan to do.
I am about to embark on a year long journey to Suva, Fiji. I will be volunteering under the title of "Occupational Therapist" at a special school in Suva and working closely with a Physio-aide counterpart who is the school's sole Allied Health worker. By the end of this journey, I will be expected to have upskilled the Physio-Aide, write progress reports on 84 students, provided professional development to teachers and parents and assist in equipment modification - all in one year. When people think about Fiji, they think of paradise. When I think of the Fiji I'll get to know and the tasks I'll be performing at this school, I think I'll wet my pants - and it won't be the Pacific Ocean that's making things damp down there.
The good news is that I won't be on my lonesome for this adventure. A skeletal Allied Health team are on board - A Speech Pathologist, a Physiotherapist (myself) and a REAL Occupational Therapist. To break the monotony of "healthcare", a fourth will be on our crew - a Communications Officer. I'm also taking you, my readers with me. I will call upon you for advice and emotional support (hopefully this will be kept to a minimum). In return, I hope to give you an insight into my journey - the ups, the downs, the quirky and the numbness that comes with far too much Kava.
13 days until take-off....
Fast facts about FIJI:
Population: 828, 000
Official languages: English, Fijian, Hindu
332 islands, >500 islets covering 18,300 km2
Capital city: Suva
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)