Got island-acclimated today by sitting on the beach for two hours and just staring out into the water and writing off and on.
It was there I met Robert the Coconut Man, a wiry, friendly little Fijian dude who strolled out of the bush and sat next to me. We talked for a good long while until I asked what he did. Apparently, he harvested coconuts for a living-- climbing the trees and getting them down and selling them, I assumed. He asked if I ever drank a green coconut, which I had just a few days before, but to be polite I said no. He stood up and beckoned me to follow and we took off into the bush together toward a stand of palm trees in the distance. Suddenly, from behind a rock he pulled out a massive bush knife. I must have looked a little offset because he laughed and handed it to me to carry, which didn't do much to ease my mind. We stopped under the trees and he smiled and started climbing. I was still looking around, waiting for the ambush and imminent robbery (we were in the middle of nowhere-- no one could have heard me give a manly shout for assistance) when coconuts started raining on my head.
It was there I met Robert the Coconut Man, a wiry, friendly little Fijian dude who strolled out of the bush and sat next to me. We talked for a good long while until I asked what he did. Apparently, he harvested coconuts for a living-- climbing the trees and getting them down and selling them, I assumed. He asked if I ever drank a green coconut, which I had just a few days before, but to be polite I said no. He stood up and beckoned me to follow and we took off into the bush together toward a stand of palm trees in the distance. Suddenly, from behind a rock he pulled out a massive bush knife. I must have looked a little offset because he laughed and handed it to me to carry, which didn't do much to ease my mind. We stopped under the trees and he smiled and started climbing. I was still looking around, waiting for the ambush and imminent robbery (we were in the middle of nowhere-- no one could have heard me give a manly shout for assistance) when coconuts started raining on my head.
(Can you spot him? Almost at the top, to the left of the trunk, you can see part of his white shirt)He shimmied down, hacked one open, and gave it to me to drink. Still not too good, but apparently good for me. Then it came. He said "This is the part where people pay me!" and our conversation went something like this:
Me: "Pay you?"
Robert: "Yes. This is hard work I do for tourists."
Me: "You're a coconut farmer... for tourists." (He nods happily)
Me: "Just curious, Robert, how much do they usually pay you?"
Robert: "Oh, 30 or 40 dollars." (My eyebrows raise)
Robert: "30 or 40 American" (My eyebrows hit my hairline, then I laugh)
Me: "No way, Robert."
Robert: "For you, I do it for 20."
Me: "Still no way, Robert." (He looks hurt)
Me: "Look, I'll give you 10 bucks. You did 10 minutes of work-- that's a dollar a minute."
Robert: "10 dollars American?"
Me: "No, Robert. 10 dollars Fijian. See ya." (Here I make a graceful, if hasty, exit)
Afterwards I walked halfway to Nadi Town to meet friend Matt for a beer at Ed's Bar and lunch at the Bounty Restaurant before tottering back to check on possible bookings for a trip to the Yasawas (a very frustrating process). I was then accosted by another crazy local, known as Auntie Fili, who demanded to book me a tour. I told her I'd check on some stuff tomorrow and let her know. I escaped to the beach to watch the first of many beautiful sunsets with my new, wonderful, cheap-as duty-free rum (About $11US for a liter of 58% over-proof rum).
I met a pack of people down on the beach where three hostels run together and ended the night taking kava with a Maori named Lance in his hotel room then stumbling, literally, to a hammock on the beach. I must have slept there for a while because it was late when I got back, and the obese chick was gone-- replaced by some dude who snored like a band saw ALL GOD DAMN NIGHT.Drink Count: 8
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