Not a Covid Story
Sekoula at sunset in Suva City.
Sekoula or Flame Tree (Delonix regia) is native to Madagascar. Photo: PMallam
When developing the content outline for this series, I told myself that it wouldn’t be about Covid-19 because for so many people I know, Covid-19 = negative vibes.
In June 2021, I lost my childhood friend, Maree Stewart, to Covid-19. With each passing day I learn a little bit more about dealing with grief. The biggest lesson has been that grieving is not a linear process; somedays you get on with the things that make you happy, and other days - all it takes is a song on the radio to propel you back to that moment when you had the last conversation with your special someone.
As depressing as it can get when I think of the heartache and sadness due to job losses, depression and the loss of loved ones, Covid has also enabled a lot of positive changes, well for me at least.
I’ve been stuck in Suva City for almost 2 years straight, with very minimal travel anywhere, other than the rare trip to Nadi for work. The only reason I leave home anymore is to get essential supplies and for an hour of outdoor sports, either stand up paddle boarding out to the Nukubuco Sandbank or a 5km walk along the lesser populated routes around Nasese.
Suva City went into a series of lockdowns when the Delta variant set off the second wave in Fiji. I spend most of my days working from home, and with the extra free time, enrolled in a range of online professional development programmes, in addition to carrying out a comprehensive audit of myself and my life purpose guided by Marc Van Huizen. I also managed to learn Fijian Sign Language with my daughter, completely delivered online by Deaf Consultancy Pacific.
With borders re-opening, I initially considered visiting my parents in Australia. However, the idea of international travel didn’t appeal to me as much as it used to. I couldn't imagine being in crowded spaces, performing tedious administrative protocols and just the sheer anxiety of not knowing when travel rules will change.
Instead, I decided to revisit the remote village of Nukusa, in Udu Point on the island of Vanua Levu. I travelled to Nukusa 9 years ago, on an expedition for WWF with award-winning nature photographer Juergen Freund and author Stella Chiu-Freund, and every now and again flicked through the pages of my field notebook and the photos from that trip.
Since visiting the village 9 years ago, I have stayed in touch with the people of Nukusa, and pre-Covid, occasionally caught up with those who came to Suva. When I visited last, they only had a shared village phone (an Easytel), which I would call once a week after I left, and revel in the updates from at least 5 different people who would all gather around. Over the last 5 years, technology has enabled the villagers access to solar-generated electricity and 2G connectivity, allowing me to to call and text friends in Nukusa more often. Most conversations were about new additions to the families I knew (which is pretty much all of the families in the village), about Covid-19 updates and developments in the kava export market.
During the numerous lockdowns over the last 2 years, I was in touch more often than usual, and as Christmas drew nearer, every conversation ended with an invitation to spend Christmas in Nukusa. If you didn’t already know, Christmas in the village is a big deal for (i-taukei) Fijians! There is an almost carnival-like atmosphere when I think of Christmas in the village, because there is so much joy, feasting and love in being surrounded by family and close friends.
Driving around Suva City in November, I was being constantly reminded by the flame trees in bloom, that Christmas was nearing; they only made my yearning to visit the village grow stronger. So I finally decided to head back to a place where I felt I belong, by a village community who adopted me 9 years ago.
In June 2021, I lost my childhood friend, Maree Stewart, to Covid-19. With each passing day I learn a little bit more about dealing with grief. The biggest lesson has been that grieving is not a linear process; somedays you get on with the things that make you happy, and other days - all it takes is a song on the radio to propel you back to that moment when you had the last conversation with your special someone.
As depressing as it can get when I think of the heartache and sadness due to job losses, depression and the loss of loved ones, Covid has also enabled a lot of positive changes, well for me at least.
I’ve been stuck in Suva City for almost 2 years straight, with very minimal travel anywhere, other than the rare trip to Nadi for work. The only reason I leave home anymore is to get essential supplies and for an hour of outdoor sports, either stand up paddle boarding out to the Nukubuco Sandbank or a 5km walk along the lesser populated routes around Nasese.
Suva City went into a series of lockdowns when the Delta variant set off the second wave in Fiji. I spend most of my days working from home, and with the extra free time, enrolled in a range of online professional development programmes, in addition to carrying out a comprehensive audit of myself and my life purpose guided by Marc Van Huizen. I also managed to learn Fijian Sign Language with my daughter, completely delivered online by Deaf Consultancy Pacific.
With borders re-opening, I initially considered visiting my parents in Australia. However, the idea of international travel didn’t appeal to me as much as it used to. I couldn't imagine being in crowded spaces, performing tedious administrative protocols and just the sheer anxiety of not knowing when travel rules will change.
Instead, I decided to revisit the remote village of Nukusa, in Udu Point on the island of Vanua Levu. I travelled to Nukusa 9 years ago, on an expedition for WWF with award-winning nature photographer Juergen Freund and author Stella Chiu-Freund, and every now and again flicked through the pages of my field notebook and the photos from that trip.
Since visiting the village 9 years ago, I have stayed in touch with the people of Nukusa, and pre-Covid, occasionally caught up with those who came to Suva. When I visited last, they only had a shared village phone (an Easytel), which I would call once a week after I left, and revel in the updates from at least 5 different people who would all gather around. Over the last 5 years, technology has enabled the villagers access to solar-generated electricity and 2G connectivity, allowing me to to call and text friends in Nukusa more often. Most conversations were about new additions to the families I knew (which is pretty much all of the families in the village), about Covid-19 updates and developments in the kava export market.
During the numerous lockdowns over the last 2 years, I was in touch more often than usual, and as Christmas drew nearer, every conversation ended with an invitation to spend Christmas in Nukusa. If you didn’t already know, Christmas in the village is a big deal for (i-taukei) Fijians! There is an almost carnival-like atmosphere when I think of Christmas in the village, because there is so much joy, feasting and love in being surrounded by family and close friends.
Driving around Suva City in November, I was being constantly reminded by the flame trees in bloom, that Christmas was nearing; they only made my yearning to visit the village grow stronger. So I finally decided to head back to a place where I felt I belong, by a village community who adopted me 9 years ago.