Finally Getting Myself to Say Goodbye

Last night I had another dream about Fiji.

I was swimming in a very large, weirdly shaped fish tank with my fellow Fiji volunteers. After swimming around for a bit, I looked down and noticed how many fish were swimming beneath us (a plethora). I looked at my friend Holly and asked, "Why aren't we freaking out right now?" Holly smiled and said, "I've been cured!"

Scene change: I was looking at a pamphlet that had a picture of a guy and a woman in the ocean. I immediately recognized the beach they were at as a beach I went to in Fiji. I said, "That's Fiji!" And I was literally sucked into the pamphlet and transported back to Fiji. 

It was great at first. I was swimming in the gorgeous Fiji ocean, looking at the beautiful beach, and then I noticed how far away the beach was. I put my head in the water to see what I was swimming in. 

Nightmare starts now. 

The water was suddenly dark (really dark), creepy fish of all sizes were swimming around, and the water became violent. I panicked and slowly began swimming to shore, which seemed miles away. 

It was at this point that I thought, "I could continue this nightmare and wait and see if I get eaten by a shark, or I could wake up." Duh. 

So class, you've learned two things about me from this story: I have a fear of the ocean and I have the magical ability to be able to tell myself "Okay, I'm done with this dream, I want to wake up." 

Fiji changed me and I'm pretty sure everyone I know has seen the difference. It has changed my color, my overall demeanor, the way I dress, the way I walk, the way I talk, and even the way I am viewed by complete strangers. 

So now it's been over a month since I sang the national anthem in the middle of the LA airport, and I have developed another fear (one that can sit nicely with my fear of the ocean). My fear is that as time moves forward and I am farther away from my experience in Fiji, I might completely lose the girl I became there. 

I've seen snippets of this already happening, and it freaks me out. 

How do I prevent this from happening? I figure that I need to take time and remember my experiences (even the miserable ones) I had in Fiji. And I also need to find ways to continue having those kinds of experiences here in Utah. 

I guess I need to find time to wander and time to write...

time to serve...

time to work hard and time to plan...

time to kill spiders in my room (side note: I came upon a spider the other day and didn't even flinch, I just grabbed a shoe and killed it. Before Fiji, I probably would have put a cup over it, distanced myself, and pondered what I should do. Success!).... 

I just really hope I don't lose that Fijian Allyssa.

I've been thinking about this post for a while now and how it's going to be my official "Goodbye Fiji" post. I think it's about time. I mean really, it's been over a month. 

It's been over a month since they've called me Teacher Alisha? I miss people calling me Teacher Alisha.  

I also miss those incredibly vivid rainbows. I miss the people of Fiji. I miss the teachers. I miss our FENC buddies. I miss pillow talk with my flatmates. I miss being used to swimming in salt water. I even miss people trying to convince me to snorkel. 

My heart aches for my students. 

I don't think my mind has fully left Fiji yet. A couple of weeks ago, I almost said "Bula!!" to someone on campus. Last week, my niece was crying and I was trying to think of songs that would calm her down, but the only ones I could think of were the ones I used to sing with my students. One Sunday at church, a guy told me that he was Samoan and I said, "I'm Fi--". I literally (not being sarcastic and not as a joke...) almost told him that I was Fijian. And sometimes when I drive, I still have a debate in my head about which side of the road I'm supposed to drive on (it's definitely the right side of the road guys). I went on a date this past week, and while my date went to get me a drink, I naturally started talking to complete strangers.

And isn't that what my whole Fiji experience was? The people I spoke to on the bus, the taxi drivers I lied to (I may or may not have told the taxi drivers that I was engaged to a rugby player), the teachers, my students, other tourists, Australian hotel owners, the LDS ward members, and every person I lived with. They were all complete strangers. I went to Fiji and fell in love with complete strangers (not all of them, mind you).

So to make a hard goodbye even harder, moce Fiji. Vinaka vakalevu! I've got a lifetime full of strangers to meet. 

They may not call me Teacher Alisha, but I guess I can't have it all.