Be warned this is very very long!


Ever just sat down, looked and thought about what you have, what you don’t have, why its never enough, steps in life where you have messed up and times in life where other people have messed thing up for you, just thought that if today, this hour and minute was your last what you would do? Who you would kiss and miss? The things you left unfinished and more importantly what will people remember and miss you for?

I sat next to two old ladies on the flight from Sydney to Nadi (fiji), I couldn’t help but think about what would happen if this aircraft didn’t reach Nadi…I got a pretty good answer to it…

If I died today, I would die without any regrets and yes I am 15 I have a long way to go but I have everything someone could want in life…modern plumbing, family, friends – actual real friends, gods grace, I don’t need anything more. Someone up there loves me a lot for giving me a life like this.

Anyway, the flight to Nadi, which I used to call home was pretty good, I sat with old people and thought for about 4hours, thought about things, forgiveness, mistakes, breaks, second takes, I liked it, time to myself. Okay so I sat there with tears running down my eyes but hey I was watching Lake House of that was an excuse if someone saw me but no one did.

Arrived at Nadi and Rakesh (the groom) picked us up in his crappy car which should not be allowed to be on the road, we got home, well the house I used to call my home, my grandpa’s place.
There was hugs, kisses, and more hugs, there was love.

My best mate for 9 years called 15 minutes after I got home, he was shocked, it was so great hearing his voice again, I don’t know what I was complaining about before when I used to feel alone, I was never alone, all I needed was to press a couple of numbers and love was at my service.

My uncle from NZ came half an hour after us and then we had cake…for my birthday which was 10 days earlier. Family. The people I grew up with, the people who meant more than the world to me – grandma, pa and the uncle.

After the shocks and the poking fingers on who has changed, there was conversation, laughter, anger and fights just like the good old days, if only there was a way to freeze these moments and keep them safe forever…it had been 4 years since the family had gotten together like this..

The next day was shopping…I bought an Indian suit, the town was messy, the shops were rip offs, there wasn’t a smile on people’s faces, this wasn’t home, this was not the Fiji I knew.

The day after, Friday, the wedding began. There was coconuts being smashed, there was turmeric being rubbed on grooms body.

In the evening I went to visit Ray, he has been my brother / best mate since year 1. we didn’t change much, we were still the same, I was still the wiser saner sister, he was still the trying to stand steady, stepping on rocks brother. His parents and my parents had become friends after seeing how serious we were about being “brother /sister” . it didn’t feel as if I was sitting at a friends house, his mum was my mum, his dad my dad. Mum and dad went with me as well. The mothers talked. The fathers talked and we talked. It was awesome


I was in the shower and he threw a Colgate packet at me. I cried. I haven’t cried like that before and I didn’t think I would cry like that again…but I was wrong.

The day after, Saturday, had over 200 people, the people playing the music drew a lil too much attention to themselves, they asked my dad who I was, dad asked them why, they replied saying I was acting all flirty and teasingly, dad stopped the car and said I was his daughter, they apologised

During the night, more friends and family came, there was loud music, there was traditional indian music for the groom, there was kava, food and there was sisters rubbing turmeric on the groom.

(The whole point of the night was to put turmeric paste on the groom, old tradition)

It wasn’t much fun. No one danced. No one laughed. There wasn’t much of an atmosphere.

At 12, the night ended, people went home, I cried again. There was pain, a lot of pain, pain that didn’t exist but pains which’s present couldn’t be denied.

now preparation for Sunday. I stayed up till 4am making a flower garland for the groom, maybe this was the way I was going to forgive him, maybe this was my way of letting go and forgiving.

Sunday morning, I got up early, finished the rest of the garland and then around 10 the procession left, a big bus, the car and other relatives and friends. We were off to the bride’s house where the wedding would take place. I was in the bus, the ride was boring, it rained, it had been ages since I had felt the rain on my skin, it felt wonderful, I felt beauty again.

The wedding was boring. More then 5 coconuts got smashed. The bride was no comment, the groom looked stunning. The food was pathetic and the wedding traditions were also lame since no one cared and everyone was angry.

After the wedding, there was angry, hard and not so nice Pat, everyone laughed at the angry comments about the wedding. It was fun.

Arriving home, I went straight to bed, the rest of the night was a bludge.

Monday was fun, I spent a lot of time with my uncle, we both knew it was never going to last, it felt so weird knowing that we probably would never get to talk like this.

Monday night, we packed.

Tuesday morning, it felt wrong, once again it was time for goodbyes.

How did this even happen? Why did we ever leave this country we called home?

There was a few tears. Grandpa’s little girl had grown up, their cute little girl had turned…beautiful, there wont be moments like this … ever. Everything had changed.

Fiji had changed so much since I first left, there was advertising everywhere, there was dirtiness everywhere, new infrastructure, the ongoing fights between the native Fijians and the Indo-Fijians.

My personal trip was quite alright, the best friends there were still best friends, I was eaten by mossies, I had cried, I forgave, I realised what I had. It was awesome.

Sydney was home now. My home.