Lonely Planet became our preferred choice when purchasing a travel guide. It offered a brief history of the country, it never shied away from criticizing hotels for substandard quality, and, my personal favorite, it warned of the scams targeted at unsuspecting visitors. However, we did not buy one for Fiji because, in our mind, a one-week stay did not justify the expense. That decision would cost us.
Without it, we entered Fiji as those very same unsuspecting visitors. Setting the stage was the seemingly genuine friendliness of Fijians who usually greeted us with “bula! bula!” whenever we passed each other on the street. So, there was no reason for concern when a heavy set man in a Hawaiian shirt the size of a bed sheet, who could easily play the role of "Big Daddy" in a New Orleans-based cop show, struck up a conversation while I browsed through a fruit market in Lautoka.
“Bula! bula! Is this your first time in Fiji?” he began.
“Yes, it is.”
“Where are you from?” he continued.
“America,” I replied.
“I have a cousin living in America. California.”
He continued on about his cousin and how much he liked living in the States. As our conversation came to a close, he reached into a plastic bag and pull out three decorative pieces of wood.
“A gift for you and your wife,” he said.
After he carved in our names, he handed them to me without any request for money. Just another example of the warmth Fijians showed toward their visitors, I thought, and decided that such a selfless gesture warranted an act on my part. I asked about giving a small token of gratitude, and he requested US$20. That sounded a little steep for three sticks, and I became uncomfortably aware that he snared me in a well-rehearsed scam.
Uncertain of the consequences if I walked away leaving him with three personalized sticks of wood worthless for his next target, I reluctantly agreed on $8, and we parted ways. I took our “gift” back the room where it landed in the garbage. Such an experience reaffirmed why my wife and I usually growled at strangers who struck up conversations for no reason. Thankfully, I learned a cheap lesson that paid enormous dividends as I confidently dealt with more con artists along the journey.
Curiosity would get the better of us once we arrived in New Zealand. We pulled a Lonely Planet from a bookstore shelf and opened to the scam section where it detailed the “relative in America” conversation. Had we purchased the book prior to our Fijian sojourn, we would have saved $8. Yet, a glance at the price printed on the back cover, and I was contented having saved the other $12…plus tax.
Without it, we entered Fiji as those very same unsuspecting visitors. Setting the stage was the seemingly genuine friendliness of Fijians who usually greeted us with “bula! bula!” whenever we passed each other on the street. So, there was no reason for concern when a heavy set man in a Hawaiian shirt the size of a bed sheet, who could easily play the role of "Big Daddy" in a New Orleans-based cop show, struck up a conversation while I browsed through a fruit market in Lautoka.
“Bula! bula! Is this your first time in Fiji?” he began.
“Yes, it is.”
“Where are you from?” he continued.
“America,” I replied.
“I have a cousin living in America. California.”
He continued on about his cousin and how much he liked living in the States. As our conversation came to a close, he reached into a plastic bag and pull out three decorative pieces of wood.
“A gift for you and your wife,” he said.
After he carved in our names, he handed them to me without any request for money. Just another example of the warmth Fijians showed toward their visitors, I thought, and decided that such a selfless gesture warranted an act on my part. I asked about giving a small token of gratitude, and he requested US$20. That sounded a little steep for three sticks, and I became uncomfortably aware that he snared me in a well-rehearsed scam.
Uncertain of the consequences if I walked away leaving him with three personalized sticks of wood worthless for his next target, I reluctantly agreed on $8, and we parted ways. I took our “gift” back the room where it landed in the garbage. Such an experience reaffirmed why my wife and I usually growled at strangers who struck up conversations for no reason. Thankfully, I learned a cheap lesson that paid enormous dividends as I confidently dealt with more con artists along the journey.
Curiosity would get the better of us once we arrived in New Zealand. We pulled a Lonely Planet from a bookstore shelf and opened to the scam section where it detailed the “relative in America” conversation. Had we purchased the book prior to our Fijian sojourn, we would have saved $8. Yet, a glance at the price printed on the back cover, and I was contented having saved the other $12…plus tax.
