Coming home & oh the memories
It’s been a long while since I’ve come back to Suva.
Suva is the reason I smile all the time, Fiji is full of smiling people. 
Smiling people who will play hide-and-seek with your children. 
It’s full of people who struggle and gloaters as well. What a winning combination. 
A familiar face will tell you that you haven’t lost the baby weight. 
Security guards will salute because you’re in a Merc. 
That of course will be followed by a classy giggle. 
I love those brown men. Their silliness and their willingness to trade stress and duress for laughter. Perhaps they are the richest of us all. 
There is no milk at the fancy grocery store, but there are peas from China in the freezer department.
A request for soy milk is returned with a question mark upon the brows.
The wifi runs slow or it doesn’t run at all. 
Would I love for my Aru to grow up here? 
Hell yes. 
School friends that ask for your food. There is no shame. Only great barter systems.
They laugh when you trip as well. 
No pretence. 
They are fascinated by your fancy car, in our day, it was a red Toyota Corolla which did the job. But at the same time, they’ll let you know when you’ve overstepped the line and you should have shut up in class or if you should go to the back of the line for the next round of handball. 
Maybe we were all innocent when it came to childhood. 
But there is something about this island life. 
Which makes you shut your crap and smell the humidity. 
It tells you it’s in charge when you can’t get the net going. 
It tells you it’s in charge when there is a downpour and potholes smother the roads. 
This island life. 
Yes, I would have it for Aru. 
If only I had patience enough for it myself.