Ode to Fiji

HERS

05.09.2009 - 19.09.2009 34 °C

How I will miss the caress of your waves, the gentle rush of your warm breeze, and the cool tingle of your salty treasures.

It’s been two weeks since my feet were covered in the pearl white sand that covers Fiji’s shores, but I still carry with me the memory of relaxation, warmth and peace. Never before have I laughed so hard: often out of confusion, sometimes disbelief, but mostly due to lighthearted fun. Volleyball with Fijian’s (who cheat at everything and think it’s hilarious) has left a permanent bruise on my arm, and the pain only fills my mind with memories of carefree days. Meals prepared with love by old Fijian woman who’s hands, stained with curry, tell tales of a life of manual labour. How I miss those dinner drums, bells, horns made from shells – any sound that signaled meal time and interrupted my lounging about for savory tastes of a tropical land. From White Sandy beach to Kuata, Naviti Island to Kuata Island, I have learned from your shores and taken your lessons to a colder place.

Thank you for giving me the gift of underwater exploration. For teaching me the art of diving and giving me an outlet to conquer my claustrophobia and my fear of the depths. You have challenged me and provided me with the beauty to reflect after the day has run it’s course. Ah Fiji, with it’s abundance of tropical fish, the cutest of which ought to be the fish with the goofy flippers that will always draw a smile. How your warm water cleansed me and brought me from the funk that is working 9 – 5 without a purpose, to a calm and serene place of acceptance. I wish always hold sacred your evenings of dance, the friendships made out of foolhardy fun, and the music that rang out as love and appreciation. I know now that I took advantage of the selflessness of the islanders – that my western ways prevented me from trusting their intentions to be honest, but I realize that now and miss the kindness and warmth that exuded from them all. Perhaps it was the heat on the breeze that made their hugs feel so comforting and warm, and I know now my feet must stumble on your shelly shores once more.

Goodbye Fiji, and Bula New Zealand. From warmth to cold, in more ways than weather, I will weather the stormy adjustment of life in New Zealand as I weathered the tropical thunder storms that cast sheets of rain upon the lens. I leave with you my footprints in your sand but stole from you memories and ocean treasures that far out weight the tears it cost to leave you behind.

Vinaka.