Megan Venhuizen

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Megan is an Art Major and Education K-12 concentration. She graduated in Spring 2015.

Living in a foreign country is an experience I think everyone should have, and one I will never forget. After a two-day journey to Fiji, I got off the plane a little dazed and confused from jetlag to find myself in a world like nothing I had ever seen before.

It is true when people say there are stages of adapting to a different culture. My first stage was shock and fear. I felt alone and unsure of myself and my surroundings. I felt stared at by all eyes. Everyone seemed to be looking at me and my fellow international students. The Fijians seemed to be overbearing and rude at first glance. They seemed to be always in physical contact with me and standing overly close. I felt they had no “mouth filter.” Everything they said kept coming out harsh and judgmental. One of my hosts introduced my two housekeepers as “the skinny one and the fat one.” In America, this is thought of as rude and inconsiderate.  I learned later that being called fat isn’t an insult in Fiji. Being fat simply means the person enjoys eating.

My second stage was curiosity. I could not get enough of the country. I wanted to constantly explore everything I could. I remember our first trip to Colo-I Suva Forest Park. We got on an overly packed bus and traveled to the middle of the island where the only people we saw were park rangers and occasional women and children carrying groceries up the winding roads. When my fellow international students and I got to the park we were greeted by a huge 50-foot waterfall leading into the coldest river I have ever been in. And at the top were a large group of Fiji boys swinging from a rope and jumping into the water. Naturally, we all joined in. After exhausting ourselves we turned our attention to food and found a nearby village. We nervously approached and gave our traditional “savusavu” – a gift of “yaqona” or kava, a popular local drink that makes you feel very mellow – so we could enter the village and eat lunch. It by far was one of the most humbling experiences I had in Fiji – just seeing how little the village had with only the bare essentials, yet how much they offered us and how much joy they got out the simple things, like climbing to the tip-top of this waterfall and free falling into the cold water below. Their philosophy is aptly summed up by universal Fijian greeting – Bula!

My final, and by far the most rewarding, stage was understanding the new culture and thriving in it. It was not until my Americanized “bubble” had been popped that I saw the true beauty of the culture and lifestyle of small island life. What I first saw as being brusque and overly forward was simply the Fijian way of being direct – actually, direct and extremely friendly. While walking to my first day of classes at the University of the South Pacific, I got hopelessly lost in the unfamiliar surroundings. When I asked a local Fijian for directions, he excused himself from a friend he was talking to, and walked me 30 minutes out of his way to the classroom. It was more polite and helpful than any experience I have had on my home campus. As I became more comfortable in my surroundings, I often took the local bus despite the university’s advice to avoid it. Inevitably the person sitting next to me loved to talk about themselves and asked me many questions about where I came from and how I was spending my time in Fiji. They seemed to take pride in talking to and getting to know “the white woman.” During one long bus ride, I fell asleep on the shoulder of the woman next to me, and she fell asleep on my shoulder. When we awoke, neither of us felt uncomfortable. No matter who they were or who you were, almost every Fijian I encountered seemed eager to please and always willing to lend a hand. One night while my roommate and I were dancing at a local bar, a man who had too much to drink wouldn’t leave us alone. Seeing our distress, three Fijian men intervened and firmly told the man to back off. This became a custom we began to rely on.

While Fiji is portrayed as a glamorous celebrity-driven tourist destination, it actually is a third-world country where much of the population lives in what Westerners would consider poverty. But Fijians seem remarkably happy and content with their lives. As one man explained to me on the bus, Americans work all day and seem stressed if they don’t complete their “to do” lists, while Fijians see work differently: if it doesn’t get done today, there’s always tomorrow! They’re less materialistic. They want to work enough to cover their cost of living. Some, mainly the Indian population that shares the islands with Fijians, call Fijians lazy. But I thought it was more just being relaxed and satisfied with their lives. The majority of homes on the island are shanties built without doors, but they are the most inviting and happy homes I have ever been in. They work hard to make guests and their family happy and in turn it makes them much happier than any of the material possessions we have in America.

During my stay, there were times when I felt uneasy and nervous, but it was only due to my expectations and trepidations. Sadly, as soon as we all felt totally comfortable and at ease on the island, it was time to say goodbye to our new friends and return home. The country and 300-plus islands of Fiji are incredibly inviting and happy. I implore anyone who has the chance to see Fiji and study there to jump at the opportunity. You won’t regret it.