Little Moments

Hey hey hey. I’m just chilling on my last night here in Fiji. And I just want to say a little something about moments. Little moments are something I’ve come to appreciate more these past two months. I’ve really enjoyed the firework moments too, but I absolutely love the little moments.

Little moments like my phone call with Warren (the Australian Safari Lodge owner dude in Nananu-i-Ra) was a funny moment. Here’s the dialogue:

Allyssa: BULA

Warren: Hello, Abi?        

Allyssa: No, this is Allyssa.

Warren: Oh hello! Are you coming back to Safari Lodge this weekend too?

Allyssa: No, I’m sick and I don’t want to spend money to sit on a beach and be sick.

Warren: Well it’s better than being in SUVA.

Allyssa: Haha, that’s a very good point. I’ll think about it.

Warren: You should really come.

Allyssa: But I’m sick.

Warren: That doesn’t matter, come anyway.

Allyssa: Huh, it sounds like some Australian man wants my money, Warren.

Warren: Uh, I don’t want your money, honey….

Pause

Warren: I was going to finish that line, but I don’t think I should.

Allyssa: Please don’t.

Or there was that time when an old married couple stopped and talked to me and my friend. The woman told me that they’ve been married 44 years, she told me a little about how they met, she thanked me for the work that I do, and she also lit a cigarette and blew some smoke in my face as she talked. Good times.

One of my absolute favorite moments was sitting next to a woman on a bus who was holding her small toddler in her lap. He was fast asleep (and I was wondering how, because the windows are open and you can hear everything on the street, and these bus drivers play their music loudly), but sometimes he would wake up with wide and confused eyes. His mother would pull him closer, stroke his hair, whisper to him, and whatever other things a mother does, and he would go back to sleep. Beautiful moment. I’m not sure the mother would agree, she could tell I was staring at her and her child and I think she thought I was really weird, but I promise I was just taking in the beautiful moment!!!!

I loved passing the temple every day on the bus, too.

There were a lot of moments of realization too. The “Wait, what?” moments, you know? The ones where you kind of do a double-take at yourself.  I remember when I realized how used to swimming in salt water I am. That’s a big deal for me.

OR the moment when I realized how confident Fiji has made me. One time I was just sitting on a bus, looking out the window, and I realized that the night before I had looked in the mirror and thought I was pretty. At that moment I thought, “Wait, what? I thought greasy hair in a messy ponytail, baggy pajamas, no makeup, and acne scars were pretty?” Let me tell you, it is a stellar look I have going on. And thank you blog post for reminding me that when I go back to the good old USA I have to start wearing makeup again.  

Let’s see, what other moments? Eating roti and curry for dinner was always a good moment.

Watching the children at the different schools brush their teeth together after lunch was a good moment.

Hanging out with some music teachers at Nuku and singing/playing “I Know that My Redeemer Lives” was a good moment. Also playing volleyball at Nuku (and killing my arms and my pride) with the teachers and students after school was a good moment.

Aw, there was that one time when I was taking a nap and I woke up and asked Kelli (my roommate) when the team meeting was going to happen. She told me it already happened and she wouldn’t let the other team members wake me up. She wanted them to let me rest. So good to me.

Bearing my testimony and singing in church were good moments.

Watching a family go from being investigators to being baptized was a lot of good moments.

I loved when I taught at Bishop Kempthorne and saw these beautiful lyrics on the teacher’s desk:

And I loved the mornings when I woke up facing the window and was able to see the beautiful sunrise.

So if you were to ask me to give you some wise counsel right now (because basically I am Socrates, right? Tell Allyssa her blog posts have been your Socrates.), I would tell you to remember and ponder some beautiful little moments you enjoyed today. They are there, trust me.

And also, just because I’m in Fiji doesn’t mean that I’m the only one that can enjoy a sunrise. Everyone has a sunrise. Go watch yours. 

That is all, now wish me luck with the water situation going on in my neighborhood right now. The situation is that we are out of water. Hopefully, the neighborhood's water is refilled soon (it's been HOURS), or my family might be welcoming a hobo home in SLC. No joke. 

Fiji, What Have You Done to Me?!

A couple of blog posts ago, I briefly mentioned how shortly before I came to Fiji, I did not want to come anymore. I was scared and I realized I didn’t want to live on an island for 9 ½ weeks. I couldn’t back out though, so I put on a show: I told my friends how excited I was, I posted pictures on facebook, and I made a blog.

After I arrived in Fiji, things were better, but 9 ½ weeks seemed so long. Oh well, I would just have to get through it and keep myself alive.  After a day, I felt like I’d been in Fiji a week. After a week, I felt like I had been in Fiji a month.

Then all of the sudden, I’ve been in Fiji for two months, the time for me to leave is coming up, and I’m already missing Fiji.

WHAT?

Yeah, I’m already missing Fiji.

I don’t want you to think I’m a heartless human being. The people here made my transition from USA to Fiji so much easier, and when I began teaching my students in May, I was immediately smitten with them. 

As I became friend with the people here and as I taught my students, I tried to predict how hard it would be for me to leave Fiji. Would I cry? Haha, if I couldn’t get myself to cry with homesickness, I definitely wouldn’t cry when I leave a place I’ve only lived in for two months. Would I miss it? I couldn’t imagine myself missing my experience here. I was sort of Hakuna Matata about it all—leave the past behind you. No worries.

Fiji, what have you done to me?

I cried yesterday as I watched my students perform a dance.

Yesterday, I was confused when I tried to imagine what an American car looks like (is the steering wheel on the right side or the left side? It’s still kind of giving me a headache).

I’m comfortable here. I’m comfortable with the people. I’m even comfortable with doing the hokey pokey in the ice cold showers.

I like riding the bus up and down different roads, taking in breathtaking views of the island while I’m on my way to school.

I like stopping and talking to people, getting to know them and telling them how nice it was to meet them.

I like saying “Bula!” to whoever I pass on the road.

I like waving to the coconut sellers and the construction workers that I pass every day on my way from the EIC.

I always thought that other people who have been abroad are cheesy when they say how much they love a certain place. I never understood how missionaries come to love a people so foreign to them. And when missionaries come home, I always thought they need to get over themselves and stop missing their mission so much. Well, they were in their countries for eighteen months to two years. I can’t imagine how hard it is for them to leave the people they have fallen in love with and lived with for so long. 

Did you hear that Fiji? That was me inadvertently confessing my love for you. Can you believe it? I’ve fallen in love with you Fiji.

Fiji, what have you done to me?!

I know what you've done. There's a cheesy quote that I liked when I was a little girl (moving from Orem to Heber, then Heber to Orem in less than a year): "You never really leave a place you love. You take a part of it with you, leaving a part of you behind." 

Would you like to know what you've done to me Fiji? You've taken a chunk of my heart. And now a part of me will always be thinking about you. And what's worse? When I try to explain to people how magical my experience was, they won't believe me, they'll think I'm cheesy, or they just plain won't understand. How could they? 

And what's even worse? You'll forget me. Other white girl volunteers will come and you'll forget me. 

But I won't forget you. As cheesy as it sounds, you'll be with me forever. 

Fiji, what have you done to me?

My Fijian Experience (as told by some of my favorite old Hollywood actors and actresses)

I came to Fiji, and obviously:

My favorite season is winter, remember?

Lots of walking and lots of sweating. Shirley and I share a bond here. 

Our country directors loaded us into the back of a sketchy truck, and when we arrived at the house we each carried our 50 lb. suitcases up a lot of stairs. Back then I was still a little nervous about frustrating people, so I tried to go up those stairs as quickly as possible. If I had to do it again, now I'd make like Jean Harlow and:

Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to look like this: 

And by the next week I gave up and celebrated this look:

After arrival, I immediately crawled into my shell and it took a lot for me to socialize with the group. 

I'm kind of shy. 

I also remember my first meetings and teaching experiences going a lot like this:

Yeah...zero confidence in my ability to teach anything. 

I know you are wondering about our weekend getaways, but I'd like you to know how we traveled to our weekend getaways first. We mainly rode in a minibus--a 12-14 seat van that sometimes squished 17 people. What else? Uncomfortable, so many hours long, queasy, my head hit the window at every turn, traveled mostly at night, and just awful. My friend Bette sums it up pretty well:

A saying eventually caught on among the team members: The days are long, but the weeks go by fast. The days were long, and by the end of them we were so tired that the smallest things either bugged us or made us laugh like this:

Oh Shirley Temple, how you represent us so well:

This is us wanting warm showers.

This is us still wanting warm showers.

A few of us went to the hospital once to see the doctor. Hey, it might have been just a cold (and a little fungus), but it was brutal. There was a sick day where three of us (Kelli, Holly, and I) locked ourselves in a room (posting a sign that threatened anyone who dared disturb us), and we tried to heal ourselves by taking a long nap. We legitimately felt and acted like this:

There were so many times (during sickness, lice infestation, numerous candy bar and cookie consumption, etc.) where we probably laughed and thought:

But there was so much happiness in our experience too. For example, some of the members of our team rescued a puppy (there are lots of stray dogs here in Fiji), and though I never actually held Tommy, he made our hearts happy and well, you know:

And so what if we ate a lot? At least we did it together. 

Speaking of together, remember how I was so shy? I ended up crawling out of my shell and now:

Needless to say, I've gone from

to...

I'm still so much of this it's not even funny:

P.S. The greatest thing about this trip is that I found the love of my life. I figured he deserved to be mentioned at some point in all my blog posts, why not now? Isn't love grand?

BAHAHA. Just kidding. Nope. This is a more accurate portrayal of my relationship status:

Sleeping with Arachnids

Don't get so worked up, it's not as dramatic as the title seems. But you know that moment when you are faced with something that usually makes you extremely uncomfortable, but this time there's not much more you can do besides sleep with it?

A few weeks ago I traveled to an island called Nananu-i-Ra. Nananu-i-Ra is gorgeous--one of the most beautiful places I've been to in Fiji.

Exhibit A:

Note: This picture was taken with a horrible camera (did you expect anything else from the girl who has had the same phone since high school? It's a really cute phone. I don't know what your problem is.) and the picture is STILL gorgeous. Am I calling myself gorgeous? YES I am. 

We arrived at the lodge at night and went straight to sleep. Sleeping conditions pictured below:

Cats eat bugs, so I guess I was welcome to a few cats crawling into my bed in the middle of the night. ?    
I kept waking up in the middle of the night with mosquito bites. I'd scratch them for a bit then go back to sleep. A little later a cat (or two) would jump in my bed, I'd wake up, find another bite, then I would go back to sleep. The next morning, when I scratched the previous night's bites, I found they did not really itch anymore. 

We were going snorkeling and we got some snorkeling gear from Warren, our Australian lodge owner dude (don't fight my English...it's really good), and I was pleased to find the remains of a dead spider in my mouthpiece. Not wanting to be fussy, I silently and quickly removed it from the mask. We headed out on our snorkeling adventure. 

I'd already been snorkeling in Fiji once before, and I handled it really well. In fact, I liked it. I was confident that I could do it again. We traveled in a little boat for twenty minutes, a Fijian man dove into the water and anchored the boat, and we put on our gear. The water was dark, but that only made me a little nervous. After I jumped in, I adjusted my goggles, and then took a peek at what I was swimming in. I don't remember much, except that it was dark, deep, and empty. I started panicking immediately, and whimpered/screamed as I swam back to the boat. The classy French couple and the Fijian men helped me back into the boat and asked, "What did you see?!" 

"I didn't see anything!!!!!!!" 

Awkward. 

One of my team members persuaded me to try again. Not wanting to be the wimp who just screamed at nothing, I tried again. My team members were good and were occasionally asking me how I was doing and asking me if I thought what we were looking at was cool. I would nod and sometimes say a really weak "Yes." It's hard to properly describe what was coming out of my mouth for most of that swim. I was trying not to make a scene, so my crying was coming out in hiccups/dog whimpers/screams/actual crying. I tried turning around and swimming back to the boat, but one of my team members caught me and encouraged me to keep going. Here came more hiccups/dog whimpers/screams/actual crying. I tried turning around once more and swimming back. I was caught AGAIN. Each time I tried swimming out after I was encouraged to keep trying, my body would do the hiccups/dog whimpers/screams/actual crying. I finally just went back to the boat to wait for the others to finish.

I really have no idea why it's so hard for me to swim in deep, dark, empty ocean. Everyone else was fine, so logically I should be fine, right? Nope. Sorry.

Let's talk about that night, because this long post really does have a point.

I found that the pillow I was going to lay my head on had a dead spider on it. I flicked that thing off and worked up the courage to go to sleep, starting to suspect that my bites from the night before weren't mosquito bites.

The night before was basically repeated, but after I found a bite on my neck (Dracula-style...I'm sorry if that brings an unnecessary level of creepy) I grabbed my flashlight and got out of bed with the intention of putting on bug spray. Something small moved in the light, and I saw a small spider slowly crawling down a thread of web that was connected to me. I couldn't scream because the other girls were sleeping, but I was surprised to find that I didn't want to scream. I didn't even jump. I just stared at the arachnid and thought of my biology professor telling us that we should name our spiders and be friendly to them. My biology professor changed my heart that day. I would like the world to know that I tried to be friendly with spiders. I gave spiders a chance, and they bit me in my sleep. I watched that spider touch the ground and crawl away (probably cackling...yeah it was definitely cackling), and I decided I would never be friendly to spiders. Ever. I turned around and looked at the wall, corners, and windows surrounding my bed and found more spiders that were larger in size. I'm still not sure how many I had been sleeping with.

A week before I came to Fiji, I woke up in the middle of the night (this post is helping me realize that this happens a lot) after having a nightmare, and I realized that I dreaded coming to Fiji. I didn't want to come anymore, but people had already donated money to the cause and I had begged my parents to let me come, so I was too embarrassed to back out. I started looking up crime rates and different news articles about Help International, and freaked myself out even more.

The point? The point: I did it. I came to Fiji! I slept with those arachnids! I swam in that dark ocean! And I have come out of it a more confident human being. You want proof? I’ve been snorkeling a couple of times in more shallow water since Nananu-i-Ra, but a week ago I went snorkeling again in dark, deep water (this time at a place called Moon Reef). Though I was scared and breathing hard, I let my friends lead me to the coral and I looked under and what I saw was the prettiest place we’ve been snorkeling to in Fiji. That’s sort of what happened when I came to Fiji. I was scared to death, but I came and I have had such a wonderful, at times really scary, life-changing experience. 

I slept with spiders, but the next morning I woke up and kayaked to one of the most amazing sunrises I've ever seen. So ask me what you should do when you're faced with something you're afraid of. I’m really not an expert, but sometimes you've got to sleep with those arachnids, you know?