Time to say ‘Moce Fiji!’
ALL good things must come to an end. Five weeks have passed all too quickly, and I now find myself on the last leg of my time in Fiji. I will start my journey back to Oxford next Sunday, and I want to prolong it as much as possible. Saying goodbye to everyone here will not be easy.
But it won't be goodbye for long. Coming here, seeing the life I could have for myself, has motived me to work even harder at university so I can one day build a future here. I will miss all my family but that desire to return is what will push me to finish my degree. I have two terms left, and my exams are in June. There's only one shot to do well, to make everyone and myself proud. I pray I won't mess it up.
I think why I dread about returning, is not the weather, or the academic obligations, it is the loneliness. No, reader, I do not want you to image me sobbing in my university room with no friends and a teddy. I have friends (spoken like someone with none), but it is undeniable that the way families and communities are structured here is just different.
One of the first things my dad did for me when I arrived here is explain the structure of the Fijian family unit. It was a bit like a teacher sitting down a small child, and drawing out charts on large sheets of A3 paper.
A moment like that, whilst easy to replicate, is the kind I came to Fiji for. There is only so much you can learn through a screen. Having my dad take the time to talk it through with me felt very special, and I appreciated his patience with me, trying to memorise the different terms.
That distinction and understanding of how each family fits and is then connected within a village is an invisible network that Fijians live by. And what struck me is that these networks do not just end within each village.
Last Sunday, after church, I had lunch at one of my nau's (grandmother) home. As I was enjoying the delicious 'ika vakalolo', I was informed of a tradition I had not heard of – 'veitabuki'. I was in the house of someone from Namata, and because I am from Bau, they would normally not be allowed to eat pork, and I would not be allowed to eat the fish. Thankfully my nau, Adi Cakau, did not enforce this and I ate all the food wholeheartedly.
Eating, breaking bread with one another, is a very intimate and interpersonal act. That someone's principal origins could hold influence between what you can and cannot eat struck me as an example of the nuance and complexity of our traditions. It is not just about my relationship to my parents, my cousins and my grandparents, but about how we as a clan, a village, and a principality are related to other groups.
So, in this way, I will feel a little lonely. My place in the wider world, my future path, remains to be seen. But being here in Fiji, I have fitted into a wider picture that I have been part of since birth.
And now to my family. It is hard to miss something you never had. I have felt out of place in England but I have not really had anything to compare it to.
People go through their whole lives feeling a little bit unfulfilled. Being able to see my aunts, uncles and my grandma whenever we feel like it has reminded me just how much family I have. That instant connection and understanding of how I am related to and similar to them felt electric.
On the December 29, we celebrated my dad's partner's birthday. It was a surprise; she arrived back from work none the wiser that so many of us were crammed, hiding behind the door. My dad, his brothers and sister, their mum- my yaca- all the families all together. When she came through the door and realised what was happening she started crying, and I noticed my dad's eyes looked suspiciously watery too during his speech.
I think what really made it for me was to have my yaca (namesake) there. My grandma is 82, she has lived so much longer than me and has been to so many places. To have this time with her, and to speak to the person who connects all our families is something I will treasure. I know it may seem that I am a very sentimental person, but I am usually very business-like and tough at university. It is nice to just be surrounded by loved ones.
My uncle George went around taking photos. He was able to get a really nice one of all of us with my yaca in the middle. In a way she is at the centre of all of our lives so it seemed fitting.
Our family came together for that birthday, however, I think in Fiji, families are so close and connected without being summoned on specific days - such is the nature of Fijian culture.
I know even though I will feel a bit lonely at first I will still be a part of that fabric back in England, and I am sure many Fijians in the United Kingdom feel hat way too.
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