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?