Welcome PCTs (and other things)



The new Peace Corps Trainees came flew into Fiji on Thursday morning.   We greeted them off of the bus with singing and did a traditional welcome ceremony for them.    They looked so hopeful, nervous, overwhelmed, tired, and happy.   It brought back a flood of memories for me of starting my Peace Corps service 17 YEARS AGO!    I had no idea what I was in for.  I didn't know how hard it would be and at the same time how rewarding.  I had no idea that my two years on that small island would impact my life forever, for the better.   It's hard not to get teary with the beauty of it all - the hugeness of this transition in their lives - knowing all they prepared and sacrificed to be here.  It makes me feel good to see young people (and most of them really do seem so young to me) committed to service.    

The sevusevu ceremony (read more here) once again reminded how much I love this culture and tradition.    The music is chill bump producing, amazing and the tradition is rich.   I love everything about it and am always grateful for participating in it (even if my knees and hips don't feel the gratitude).      I'm thankful that our family is such a part of the Peace Corps world.   


Bula wear

greetings off of the bus

making the yaqona


the dancing was fun!










back at home on porch

 Other than that, it's been a fairly normal week.  I've been working a lot lately.  It's rare that I have a day I don't go into school.  It's ok though, because I still think I have the best job in the world.  I really love my career and feel so thankful I am doing what I love here.  

I've been giving the kids a lot more independence lately.  They LOVE it!   They love to go into the grocery store and buy whatever I've put on the list while I wait outside.  They have to count money and change and choose which sizes to get of things depending on how much money they have.   They feel so grown up and I love watching them rise to the challenge.   It's also nice to relax while they do the shopping!  

I went to see Girls' Trip with some friends on Thursday night (quite funny) and last night went to an artists' salon at the playhouse.   It was lovely to see all of the talent showcased here from the expat community.   It's always fun to see friends in all their artistic glory! Who knows, maybe I could re-live a Vagina Monologues moment one day on stage.  Doubtful...but fun  to think about.   At the end of the show, a friend, Richard read the following poem.  It's beautiful and will stay with me for a long time I think...

Poem by poet Warsan Shire:

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.
no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.
you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied
no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough
the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off
or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important
no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here
Asian Ladies Chior

Dave doing his thang!

This poet was amazing

And on a completely random note, put up some new pictures around the house this week.   Replaced some old photos and added a few.   I think I may be a little photo obsessed- but man, I love the peeps in these photos.  It's beautiful to be surrounded by family and friends in our daily lives, even if they are not all here physically.  It's fun to be reminded of our travels and for the girls to see that we value family above all else!












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