GoodBye Wansolwara

I was one of the advisors for a party of this newspaper when I was in Fiji.   Wansolwara --think it means people of the Ocean, is University of South Pacific's award winning student newspaper --Its claim to fame was that it was the only paper from Fiji reporting on its coup in 2001, to the outside world. 

I was there when it completed 10 years and proud to say that I organised the whole party, where I invited about 100 people to the party, the key note speaker was a Lead journalist and professor in New Zealand who had worked in Fiji, Prof. David Robbie. So that year, I presided over Journalism Awards and the 10 year anniversary.  Took care of both of those, the same year I wrote Media Studies program and some grants.

Except that I got one paper and three conference papers from that grant, none of the other activities that cost me 6-8 months of my career are counted.  But I must still say that I both gave my best and learnt a lot. 

I got sick this year with dengue/meningitis, the mild one.  But it took three months out of my life and took me about 8 kilos down.  The worst part was that there were only three people who checked on me.   And only one person.  Two via email and phone texts.  My colleague Pat and Friend Katie from Canada.  But it was Kirti, the Indian-Fijian girl who was my neighbour who made me food and left me tea every morning before she left for work.  That situation made me think a lot.  Going to the bathroom during those days felt like I was going for a world tour on foot. It was that taxing.

I have carried the newspaper with me, and dear memories with me for all these years. 

Finally, I had to get rid of extra copies.  All the nostalgia aside, I just need to continue to declutter and not add any more materials to my living space. 

Still some of these images are dear.  There are students who I knew very well. At least in my heart there was a special place for them. In some cases we drifted apart, in some cases communication was blocked. Some of those where a true heart connection was made, still communicate, remember my birthday, send emails and promise to connect in the future.  'Det räcker'--it counts as they say in Swedish.  It is enough, or more than enough!

Here are some issues and some important people.  The issues were a result of months of work with the students.  And the special people graced my life for the time in Fiji.  Memories, are a strange thing.  We can choose to hold on to which parts we want.  

These are front pages of the newspaper from when I was helping with the newspaper, so they are dear to me. I had several copies of each.  Now as I am decluttering, I am removing some old ones, keeping only some pages, to reduce the load for my next move. 

There are also sovienieurs that my students brought me and I have them all over my house. Even when those who gave me the gifts are not in communication or our paths do not cross.   The picture above.  The miniature of the shield is from Botswana.  I bought that myself, when I was leaving the country.  The little fan below with Fiji-fabric print--called 'tapa' --(this is not real, its faux- but) usually made of coconut--came from Rosa.  One of my first students.  Filled with life and with a larger than life smile.  It ran from ear to ear. She, at least then, used to be fond of taking her own pictures.  They were not called selfies yet. Selfie is a 2013 word.  That is when it entered into the dictionary.  

This was present to me by two students, who were undergrads and I encouraged them to send their paper to a conference in Vanauatu.  They got the paper accepted and the funding to travel.  Quite unusual for undergrads to present papers at conferences.  The girls were especially dear to me, especially one of them, who was more dear than others.  Today, its been years since communication.  Sadness and grief of relationships that diid not last or walk with you for a longer period often forms a callous on your being.  The challenge is to keep your heart open and continue to love the world, the best way we can. 

So the is my decorative, memory wall. Let us take it clockwise, form the Salu-Salu--the necklace like organmaent at the bottom. Made of coconut bark it is traditionally  used to welcome or honour people. Similar to Mala--in Indian setting.   I have kept this one.  I had another one, that I gave away when a cleaner at the university asked for it.  Apparently they cost much.  And can last years, or even decades when dry.  Completely recyclable they can be freshened up by using fresh flowers.  That is how I got it, and it smelled heavenly.  Here is how it looked when it was fresh (click here to see).  Can you imagine how heavenly it smelled?

On the left, is a fan that a student from Tonga got me.  To the right is a mask from Vanuatu, an Indo-Fijian and a Tongan student got it for me.  The fan on the right with a shell in the centre is also from Tongo, absolutely love how regal it looks.  The two things in the centre....miniature of a shield and spears are from Botswana, bought it when I was leaving, but had forgotten about it, since it was in India. I brought it with me this time.  The fan below it is from a dear Fijian student. 

It was fun working on these.  I got into trouble for working on two sections on democracy in the last year. I wondered why they had asked me to pay a huge amount towards the end or they would not let me leave the country.  A student then said, you cannot write and hail democracy and people let you be.  Today, I think all countries are not ready for democracy.  Democracy in the long run leads to dumbocracy, with dumbed down media and 'everything goes' attitude.  But, then no country should be under forced rule with little freedom either. No people should be moulded into one way of thinking.  And that goes for regimes and militaries but also for religions that demand blind belief and loyalty. 

My love for Fiji will never die, nor will the green and bright memories of the country ever become dull or fade.  I gave it my best, with love and affection, by cooking, by making gifts, by celebrating birthdays.  That only a few are connected, is also a blessing.  Those few 'see' me.  And in many ways, 'know me'. Ion this day of social media, we cannot really keep in touch with many, so it also keeps life simple.  Doesn't mean I don't think of them.  After all I carry their gifts to me, with me. 

As life moves, I must bow to the good moments and the love shared.  I have received a fair share of love and affection from this planet, and I must acknowledge it.  I just also learn to let go.  For things weigh us down.  So, I do have some of these pages saved, I have gotten rid of many copies of Wansolwara. 

Goodbye Wansolwara, Be Well, Stay Well.  Thanks for letting me contribute a bit of myself to your glory!!

Aidan Chambers: A Brush with Celebrity

First published on December 20, 2014, here it is again.  A simple post but quite memorable.  You can look up the author. 





The following post was started in 2012, but as is life, I am just wrapping it up.  Just in time for some nice positive stories for the New Year.

I was talking to a friend/student and she asked me, 'So anything interesting happen?"

Well, no, nothing really.

Yeah, but you meet all these interesting people.  No one on the plane?

''Oh, yeah...I actually.'

                                        

She laughed, She knew.

Aidan Chambers: The Author of Dying to Know You

Yeah, I was on my flight from London to Stockholm, and I sat next to this tall gentleman, and started chatting.

At first we only talked about what he was reading. ---P.G. Woodhouse----We talked generally about the weather and life in general.

Then I asked him what he did. 

In very simple terms, and very modestly he said, 'I am a writer'

Really? My eyes went wide.  

And then we talked about this work.  He writes novels for young adults, and has written in general on writing and education as well.

We talked about academic writing and he wrinkled his nose, ‘not my cup of tea’

Ofcourse I am interested in people and their stories.  So, I asked him how he got into writing, did he always want to be a writer, did he ever pursue any other profession.

He told me that he was a Catholic priest and as he grew he disconnected from his faith, it meant less and less because it was restricting to him.  I assume an imaginative mind cannot be put down.  Since I have had a personal issue with monotheistic religions, and absolutely disagree with the rigidity that is imposed by such thinking, I asked him about meditation and other practices in the church.  He stated that the point of meditation was not to meditate and to be free of thoughts, as it is in Asian traditions, where the aim is to go beyond duality (us and others) and find the divinity and vastness within, instead it was only to focus on the idea of divinity prescribed by the church.

I could understand many of the things he shared, from having read Joseph Campbell and other authors who talk about their monotheistic faith falling apart, as they expanded in consciousness. 

He spoke with as much love as anyone can imagine. He had no bitterness or pain as he spoke.  It was as if he was relating a story he had read.  When I realized that, I instantly felt that he had reached his nirvana.  He could not be bound by a limited idea of divinity, and may be that is what led him to delve into the hearts and minds of humans, and being compassionate. 

Why was he flying to Stockholm, I asked. Oh because I have to be at this university for a lecture….

‘Wow, that is where I work’

‘Really,’ he gave a gentle smile.

Yes, if its ok, I would love to attend the lecture.

Sure, it would be nice.

Soon as I got home, I googled him.  He is a well-published, well-read, well established, award winning novelist.  

I sat just being in awe of the fact that I had met and had a personal conversation with him. 

The next day I saw him in the hallway, and he talked to me like I was an old friend.  He held both my hands in his and said, ‘Did you arrive at home ok?¨

Yes, I nodded nervously. ‘I have some work to do, but I will be there for your lecture soon.’

Sure, you’re welcome.

I arrived there a little late for the lecture.  I had gotten a simple gift for him—a handmade folder I bought at an emporium in Delhi.  I thought I would give it to him towards the end of the lecture.

He discussed children’s literature.  The lecture was fascinating. And two years later, I still remember him discussing ‘Where the Wild Things Are.’  And that the shape of the moon in the book would even imply that the story takes places over several days, rather than one day, as many assume.

He was center of attention there, but I waited a while to find him alone so I could hand him that folder.  But he was never alone and I, for some reason felt that it may not be appropriate.  I could not step up to hand him the packet.  However, I did walk up, showed my face through several people who surrounded him, ‘Mr. Chambers, I am going to leave, I have a class shortly’

He again held my hand so warmly, ‘Thankyou for coming.

We exchanged one email after that. But I know that we are busy and emails can end up being trite, and that real relations and friendships happen only over a period of time.

But just meeting him had me feeling giddy for days.

In that short meeting I learnt much, and experienced the warmth of his person. 

At one point, when we were on the plane, I asked him, ‘Does decision making and making grown up decisions become easier with life?¨

He thought for a short while. 

‘I mean are we less concerned about taking wrong decisions as we get older?’

‘No’ he said with a big smile, and no remorse on his face.

He seemed to be in a good place in his life.

Same place I would like to be, when I am his age.

Autumn Arrives

Just like that the shadows lengthen and sun becomes pleasantly warm.  The green is more nuanced and yellow comes in.  Yellow, Red and Green all mix, giving us the brightness so that we do not miss the flowers of summer. 

Here are some old posts about autumn: Autumn Aura

How nature compensates the flowers of summer with yellow and red of autumn...

Autumn walks how have solemn skies, but somehow light makes its way through...

And Finally, the memories of some of most memorable autumn in the US