The hardest part of coming home isn’t the end of the adventure, or the not being alone together, or driving on the right side of the road; it’s the lack of drums. At “Lalati”:http://lalati-fiji.com, drums tell you about everything. Happy hour? The drums will call you. Dinner? Drums! Time to go on the group snorkeling trip? You guessed it, drums. I keep on forgetting to have lunch because there’s no drums to tell me it’s lunch time, and I spend all afternoon looking forward to the 5pm happy hour drums, yet they don’t come.
In the abstract, the whole being-called-by-a-drum thing sounds a little… controlled. Who wants to be dictated to on their vacation? But, trust me, nothing says vacation to the modern executive/freelancer-type more than the concept that you don’t have to be responsible for anything. That’s what the drums are about: you’re on an island with tons of people who have no job other than to take good care of you.
Especially after a long vacation, with tons of “drive there” and “show up here on time to start that activity” and “pick what’s for dinner” and “how much money do you want to change,” giving up a little responsibility is a good thing. Heck, I’m a gourmet cook and some days I just can’t handle the responsibility of fixing any kind of dinner at all — and not because I don’t have time. And I miss the good care that Dick would take of me!
Overall, it’s a little embarrassing to admit this. Usually I’m the guy who goes to all of the authentic restaurants and stays outside of the big tourist areas and tries to learn a little bit of the local language. Not with Fiji. With Fiji I wanted to be pampered, and so they drummed me what to do at what time of the day.
So this morning I woke up and sat on the couch in my robe for quite a while, because there was no drum to remind me that I should do something. Lunch has come late every day since we got back to the States because there’s been no drum to remind me it’s time to eat. I’m a well-trained pup.