BULA!

Bula, bula-- this is definitely the mot du jour in Fiji. Bula when you greet, Bula when you eat, Bula when you sneeze, Bula when you drink kava...As our local friend Save Two said, "Bula stops only for sleep, then Bula again the next day!" This is the Fijian life.
The people here are strikingly hospitable, and friendly beyond mere politenes, to the point where we could have been blind and deaf and still ended up on the right bus!...or more likely, staying at some friendly local's house as part of the family.
We were met at the Nadi airport by Save (the first of two on our trip...we will dub him Save One), a host we met through the CouchSurfing website. He walked us to the bus stop, where we waited in sleep-deprived delirium and culture/climate shock until a bright orange, open air bus tightly packed with people came to a stop in front of us. I remarked on the cars driving on the left side of the road and Neal looked around with a boggled look on his face. He had not even noticed the difference, probably due to his delirium. We got on the bus and rode to Barara, Save's neighborhood, and met his entire family (we quickly learned that one house can have many extended members of the family living there for various timespans). The walls of the house were covered in painted paper made from what looked like coconut husks, and over it were hung pictures of the family, the islands, and Jesus. We put our bags in our designated room and went outside to play rugby with Save's two sons John, 8, and Maku, 5. Rugby is a BIG deal here. They play it all over the place, rain or shine, and when they aren't playing it they are talking about it. BIG deal. We watched the New Zealand vs Australia game on television in Suva, and we could hear the groans and cheers from the neighbors through the walls. BIG deal.
After playing until we were too drenched in sweat to see, we sat down and chatted with Save's uncle, Elijah. We discussed religions around the country and learned many Fijian phrases to use on our travels, and then he showed us a few of the traditional plants that are commonly eaten in Fiji. One such plant is cassava, a.k.a. Tapioca, a starchy and extremely versatile plant that is eaten with nearly every meal. I want to remark on the strangeness of this experience for us: Just a little over two weeks ago, Neal and I were visiting his grandmother Rita in Alpina, Michigan. Neal's aunt had brought over a big bowl of homemade tapioca, and she asked if my food allergies permitted me to eat it. I said I didn't know, and what is tapioca made of, anyway? We all searched the box for clues, but the only ingredient on the label was "Tapioca." So we left the mystery unsolved and I ate it anyway.
Well, friends, TAPIOCA MYSTERY SOLVED! Solved as much as anything can be solved, in fact. We got to know cassava very intimately on our trip, even visiting a cassava farm and harvesting it ourselves. Neal even got to plant a stalk of it (which pretty much consists of cutting the top off of an existing plant and sticking it into the ground because EVERYTHING grows in Fiji, but it was exciting nonetheless)! I also learned that my stomach does not do so well on three daily meals of cassava. Ah, the pleasures of learning! Nobody can say that we did not have an authentic Fiji experience after this trip.
We stayed with Save and his family for two days, then took a 3-hour bus to stay with the Finseths in Suva, promising to meet up with Save again at the end of our trip. Travis Finseth is my godparents' son, so when we heard that he was living close by, we hassled him via Skype and email until he let us stay with him. We spent four nights with Travis, his wife Jaime, and their three kids Reed, Mari, and Cade. They are a very upbeat and welcoming family, and we had a fantastic time with them. Travis took us to Colo i Suva, where we hiked through the rainforest and jumped into a warm pool from a rope swing. Neal practiced his backflips, and I practiced not screaming out loud before hitting the water. The next day, we got to see the tourist way of life at Pacific Harbor, building sandcastles on the beach and eating banana fritters in the shade. We watched the rugby game at their house and ate homemade mango ice cream. And on our last night, their friendly housewoman Matalita served us a full-on delicious traditional Fijian feast. The Finseths went out of their way to make us comfortable and we  enjoyed every minute of our time with them. Thank you again, Travis and Jaime! Come stay at our house anytime, as soon as we have one, and we will give you our version of the royal treatment.
While riding the bus to Suva, Neal struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to him, who we will call Save Two. By the end of the chat, Save had invited us to visit his village and participate in a kava ceremony, so we decided to take him up on it before leaving the island. We almost missed the bus out of Suva (buses are the only things that don't run on Fiji time), and Neal had to run up to the window as the bus was pulling out to stop them from going off without us. We met Save Two at the bus station in Sigatoka, after waiting for several minutes and nearly getting on the next bus to Save One's house in Nadi. He ambled up with a big smile on his face, and we walked with him to his village of Nayawa. Along the way, we shook hands with every single person on the street, who he was always somehow related to (I swear he had ten grandfathers)! As we walked, he talked to us about the True Fiji and told us that we had not truly been to Fiji until the moment we tasted kava.
Okay, our internet time is up. Updates again soon....