A morning commute along the bustling Suva-Nausori corridor, especially during peak hour, is something of an experience. For me though, it’s fascinating how traffic can remain so still.
It’s probably because for the past three years, I’ve become used to a whole new and different lifestyle after living in Goa, India.
Also, that due to the sheer size of the population and volume of vehicles, traffic in India is immense, though never stagnant. Picture this. A small coastal state with a population of over one million and Fiji, whose population has not even crossed a million.
Even though Goa is India’s smallest state, it is by no means lacking. My time spent in Goa has been an eye opener, and coming back home has made me realise just how much I’ve changed as a person.
These days, I find myself reminiscing about blaring horns, inching car movements and the zigzag navigation of Goa’s roads by bike riders. Traffic is never still. It keeps moving. It’s almost a wonder to behold at times.
That is why I’m still coming to terms with how leisurely and laid-back life is on the islands. I have to admit, part of me did miss ‘Fiji time’ a lot. However, there is the other part that is still coping with the culture shock. Habits ingrained deep are often hard to let go.
Some things that I’ve been accustomed to my entire life suddenly feel foreign while others feel almost nostalgic. In all fairness though, acclimating to a place takes time, especially if you’ve been away for a while.
Food, mannerisms, behavior, language, travel, they all become an intrinsic part of adapting and living. Even simple things like disembarking a bus. I remember an instance when I boarded a bus in Goa, and was shocked to see there were no bells or ways to inform the driver about where you’re getting off.
It’s here that the conductor comes into picture. All you have to do is leave your seat (while the bus is moving), and then wait at the steps before disembarking. Once the bus stops, there’s no time for dilly dallying because there is an entire queue behind you, and people have places to be.
So if you take your time, best believe people will push you aside. Some may argue about the safety aspect of it all, but once you get used to it, it isn’t all that bad. Transportation aside, language and communication are also vital parts of surviving anywhere.
And if anyone has ever told you that living in a place for an extended period of time will not have an impact on the way you speak, they’re wrong. Personally speaking, I didn’t feel anything amiss when I freely conversed with friends and colleagues in India, however, once I came back to Fiji, my family, friends and colleagues were quick to point out that I had a slight change in my accent.
At first, I didn’t know whether to be amused or embarrassed, especially after I subconsciously did the Indian head shake. If you don’t know what that is, it is essentially a head wobble from left to right and can be akin to a thumbs up or a ‘set’ as Fijians know it.
That head wobbled many times in India, because somehow I felt that crafty Indian vendors would have overcharged me for goods if I had responded with a “set” instead of the head shake! Speaking of vendors, bargaining is a whole different game in India.
You can get an item for at least half the original price if you just bargain for it. This is especially true if you want to buy things from street vendors. I remember during this one trip to the market with a friend’s mum to buy a sari.
Originally the vendors had quoted a price of Rs1000 ($F28). “Naka re (no),” my friend’s mum told the vendor in Konkani (the official language of Goa). “Acha 500?… 200?, 400?, 300…?.” They both settled on 300 ($F8). and it stunned me that bargaining had so much power.
Not everything is about bargaining, though. It is considered proper etiquette to only bargain if you feel the price does not match the quality of the items. Otherwise, food and other essentials are sold at a fixed rate.
Meanwhile, both Goa and Fiji, despite being geographically and culturally diverse, share quite a number of similarities. I think this is one aspect that allowed me to settle in without feeling too many harsh pangs of homesickness.
Both countries are coastal states, where fishing and fresh seafood are in abundance. The climate is very similar (both have summer and rainy seasons) and both carry remnants of colonialism. Fiji was a British colony while Goa was under Portuguese rule (separate from the rest of India until 1961).
Like Fiji, the pull factor for Goa is its people. The friendliness and warmth exuded by Fijians also mirror the depth of affection Goans have for their country and people. I easily forged lifelong friendships with a number of people during my stay.
As I write, the speaking habits I picked up in India remain. I don’t expect them to linger for a long time as I can slowly feel myself already morphing out of the Indian environment and getting back into the Fiji flow.
I must add, however, the past three years have been a rollercoaster ride but more importantly, an enriching experience.
As a Fijian of Indian descent, the opportunity to live and experience life in the land of my ancestors is an opportunity I will forever cherish. Hopefully, I get to visit again someday!
NEXT WEEK: The spices of India
