war of the worlds

I had never seen anyone terminally ill until my mother's brother became sick during my teenage years.  As an extended family we banded together as best we could to offer my uncle and his immediate family our support in what became his last months of life.  In sickness and in death the doors were always open for those who wanted to spend time with my uncle and the family.  As other family members passed away, I took the Samoan way of facing sickness and death to be the norm.

Some years later, my father's mother became sick and in her tender age, she began residing at a rest home - something I did not like, although had no say in.  After a short time at the rest home, my grandmother became unconscious, and surrounded by her children and grandchildren, she slipped from us slowly, day by day till finally she passed away.  In sickness and in death the doors tended to be more closed than open to anyone but family, and even then, there were seemingly unsaid limitations.

From my grandmother's decline in health till we laid her to rest with her husband, I felt like a foreigner living in some surreal reality.  The way everything was handled was not what I was used to.  I regularly thought to myself, who are these people I am meant to be related to?  My mother must have had an affair!  Is my father really the milkman?

So where does that leave me all these years on?  Thankfully I am still very much my father's daughter!  I still get a little sad thinking there were things I could have done or said differently, however I have to remember it was about my grandmother, not me.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

castle conversations

A few months ago I moved into a new place we sometimes like to call The Castle - an apartment that looks like a castle and feels like a castle, but really, it is an apartment.  The girls and I hit it off straight away when I met them, much to my relief.  One palagi, the other Maori.

After a few weeks I move in - someone who has been on a rather winding journey with my identity.  A journey I am still on and will be for quite some time.  Not too soon after that, the three of us are in the lounge talking over a few bottles of wine and the conversation moves to the harmless topic of what colour to dye our hair.  All of a sudden the Maori looks in my direction and blurts out "With you, no matter how dark your hair gets, it doesn't make you look any more native than what you already are BUT ME, dark hair makes me look really native, really Mau-ree and I just don't want that look for myself".

In that moment my jaw mentally dropped as my mind raced with a myriad of questions, thoughts and realisations.  Most prevalent in my mind was why I ended up in this place of all places, living with this person of all people who is intensely out of touch with who she is, out of touch with her roots and seems to be doing all she can to disassociate herself with being Maori, which from my observation is exactly what she needs most in her life.  She is running away from everything I am running to.

I have no idea how my journey living in The Castle is going to pan out with a Maori in denial about being Maori and I frequently feel restless when I think about it because I know something has to give with this girl.  I do not know how it is going to happen, I do not know when it is going to happen, I just know it is going to happen.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

here fishy fishy fishy ..

I can now reluctantly say I am in my late 20's and recently I found myself at a 21st birthday feeling really REALLY old.  I was more interested in the food (only because I was broke and it was Filipino food I eat an average of once a year), I was not going to town on the party bus with all the 21 year olds and I got asked by a 21 year old (in a committed relationship with a child) why someone of my age and pretty was not at home with my husband and children.  And by the way, this is the second time in 2 months I have been asked why I am old young-ish, free and single.  Now I am starting to wonder, if there are plenty of fish in the sea, then where is my .. fish?

Did I have him and now he is gone?
Have I met him and just don't know it?
Is he yet to walk in to my life?
Or am I destined to become a nun?

I don't think I am a high maintenance kind of girl with a list a mile long on what I must have in my ideal man.  My list only consists of 4 points thus far!  Someone who thinks he is God's gift to me and me alone, is as tall as me or taller and is a Samoan who speaks at least Samoan AND English!  Is that really too much to ask?

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

Chasing Dad

Last week on the Samoa Observer website, I read the article "Do you know this boy?" which led me to the immensley heart-warming blog Chasing Dad by a Kiwi man named Al Ronberg on his journey to visiting Samoa.  Al's father who passed away in 2000 after battling Alzheimer's disease, spent time in Samoa during the 60's, including Samoa's Independence Day.  In short, October will see Al and his family travelling to Samoa - a place that has captivated him for the longest time and a place his father adored.  Part of Al's journey to Samoa includes attempting to find a boy in a few of his father's old photographs taken in Samoa (one pictured above).

Reading Al's blog got me thinking about my own journey back to Samoa as an adult.  I had been to Samoa several times as a child, however time erased all but a few precious memories.  In my early 20's, I started talking about going back and a few years later, I finally made the move to live there, albeit a short while.  It was not till on the plane from Auckland that I fully comprehended what I was doing.  All these mixed emotions overwhelmed me as I thought of all I had left behind and the unknown that lay ahead.

That first trip back to Samoa will forever be one of the greatest experiences of my life.  To see, to smell, to touch, to taste, to feel, to hear, to breathe, to cry, to hurt, to laugh and to love in Samoa somehow helped me know myself better.  And the strengthening of the connection to my mother who is Samoan, to her parents and their parents by simply being, in a land I had yearned to be part of again, is priceless.

To Al Ronberg, I wish you well and hope you find what you are looking for.  Keep your heart and mind open and everything else will follow.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.