Political correctness gone missing

Lesson learnt: offensiveness is relative

Political correctness is definitely a thing in Australia, to the point where certain ‘current affairs’ programs would have us believe it has gone mad.  While I'm sure it's still easy to put your foot in it over here (especially for me), the criteria for offensive is a little different. 

Our first introduction to this was when we decided to go see our first Bollywood movie on the big screen.  For the first half it was the usual tale of true love vs. arranged marriage, mistaken identity, family feuds, various reptile bites to the crotch and accidental mass chloroforming followed by shipwreck.  After the interval, we were treated to a rape joke, a racist joke and an inexplicable scene where a man chases a dwarf in a queen of hearts costume around a tree. All in 30 minutes.  No kissing though, it’s just not done in Bollywood films!

Another indication we were not in Kansas anymore was this sign my flatmate found near a special school. Not quite how I would have put it.

You're going to hell if this made you giggle.

The other thing that keeps striking me is the massive amounts of prayers, bible verses and other invocations of God that appear in public places.  I have seen them around the workplace, in advertisements, songs being played in department stores and in plenty of public notices.

Below is Fijian sign language for evangelism. I’m sure many people would like to, but it’s not politically correct to do this while someone is evangelising you against your will.  Unless you are in Fiji.



How to tell a deaf Fijian Mormon you know what they're up to



My first weeks in Fiji

Lessons learnt: Don’t sit on inviting piles of coconut husks, they contain horrifying arachnids, and root vegetables are better when eaten at infrequent intervals and in small quantities.

Well, I’ve survived my first few weeks in Fiji, and the rigorous *cough* process of In Country Orientation. 

A highlight was a weekend spent in a small village about an hour (or 20 Fijian minutes) out of Suva.  We went on a canoe trip to the mangroves where we learnt to catch 'mud lobsters' (a kind of crayfish), swam in the river and drank coconuts fresh off the tree.



Coconut grove in the mangroves.



I was enjoying the serenity, when I looked left and saw a MASSIVE spider (I'm talking largish huntsman size) sitting on my shoulder. Here’s a picture of his (much smaller) cousin I found in my bathroom:

I shall name him Fluffy!

You'll be glad to know I was brave and my screams of "GET IT OFF!!! GET IT OFF!!! GET IT OFF!!!" scared it to the middle of my back, where one of the guys flicked it into the water, and it was dispatched by our heroic paddler with a well-aimed whack.

Me hiding from spiders and sunburn. Man on left deserves a spider killing medal.

Our adventure continued that night with (another) kava session, and a surprise dance performance from the guys of the village.

How was your Saturday night?

Thankfully, we'd come prepared and already knew some Pacific island dances, and we threw in a few sweet moves of our own. One of our number inadvertently asked the chief to dance (as I understand it, a bit of a no-no) but he was a good sport about it.

You're in!

The next day we were initiated into the great Fijian tradition of the lovo. We even helped (in the way a 2 year old "helps").

Grating coconuts: sweaty work

Success!

After church, we got to enjoy the feast. There was a truly epic amount of food, a great amount of which was the local staples: taro and cassava. Taro has the texture of Play-Doh, while cassava is like stringy potato. Neither is particularly offensive, but they are both really heavy and after 6 meals in a row of these, we were feeling it!

Us feeling it. Taro and Cassava centre right.

The experience was certainly a real eye-opener of a lot of us. It is pretty easy to avoid a sudden culture shock in places like Suva, where you have the same services and even a lot of the same brands as back home (although in the case of a certain coffee chain, this may not be a good thing).

A weekend of sitting on the floor, wading barefoot through mangroves, cooking over a fire and washing with a bucket of cold water was a dose of reality.  It was also an insight into the way many (if not most) Fijians live.  Thanks to the wonderful people of the village for having us!