Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Well it's bloody pathetic! Nowhere in the States would they dare do that; they'd be sued
for deformation of character or something!” I retorted.
Monday arrived, and we cleared in with no problems. We took one of the numerous little
taxis and drove around Nadi, pronounced Nandi. It was all hustle and bustle and just what
you'd expect an established Fijian island city to be like, particularly with the dominating
Indian population. We found them to be similar to the Indians we had back in South Africa:
sharp as razor wire, aggressive, and extremely business oriented. You would never pull the
wool over any one of their eyes.
On the other hand, you had to admire their fierce loyalty and family-based lifestyles. They
lived for their families, and you very seldom saw interracial marriages. They were very
religious and mostly law abiding, bringing tremendous stability to any society that they
weaved themselves into. They were also decidedly intelligent, hard-working, and very di-
ligent. They would avail themselves to you if there was a profit to be made.
The alternator on Déjà vu's engine had recently packed up. I had tried to repair it but to
no avail. I could see that the voltage regulator had died, and the sudden increase in volts
had fried the sensitive diodes in the alternator. On the day after we had cleared customs, I
removed it from the engine and, wrapping it up in a rag, stuffed it in my backpack; Gavin
and I went to town in search of an auto electrician.
“Ooh no, we caant fix this now; we too busy; what da problem wit it anyway?” said the
beady eyed technician behind the greasy counter.
“I think the diodes have blown; look, you can see the traces of burn marks at the open
ended housing,” I said, showing him.
“Ooh, you boys tweens?” he asked, observing Gavin, who had just walked into the musty,
little workshop.
“Yes,” I said wearily for the umpteenth time.
“Where you from?” he queried, his black eyes darting between Gavin and I.
“South Africa actually,” said Gavin.
“Ooh my goodness, you long way from home.”
“Yes, well can you do something with this?” I pressed on impatiently.
“Leave this with me; you come back at two o' clock, OK?”
“OK,” I agreed. “Two o' clock then.”
We left the shop, thankful to be out in the sunshine again.
