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I was in Fiji for a couple of days back in 1986. Unfortunately I ran out of money, did not have a credit card, and I ended up sleeping behind a shed at the Nadi airport my first night there. It was a beautiful night and I enjoyed a bottle of wine that a nice stewardess slipped me from my flight. I watched the full moon, sipped on that red, and hoped no one would discover my little camp. The next day I met a local Fijian woman who helped me by bringing me to her home, fed me, shared kava, and provided a space on the floor in her little shack where she lived with her husband, kids, and parents. They took me to some very shady bars that I would never go into in a million years, bought me rounds of beer. What an experience. If I had dough I would have ended up in tourist places, had a pool, massages, and slept on a nice bed with air conditioning. Thank goodness that I ran out of dough, otherwise I would not be able to tell this story about myself to all of you.
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