Diana Pan

It’s such a confusing month. Tonight was the final dinner party we had as the current Global Perspectives class. The next time we have a party or a get together of any sort, we will be known as a grad class. This idea hasn’t fully settled in my mind yet so maybe that’s why I’m not as daunted by tonight as I should be. In fact, the idea that I’m graduating high school in less than a week hasn’t really settled in my mind yet either. Everything seems to be ending this month. High school, Fiji, my sheltered life stage as an adolescent… I’m fearful yet I’ve been challenged. I either haven’t processed what vast tasks I’m about to undertake or I’m ready for it. Whatever is next, I won’t let uncertainty stop me. Even though I’m leaving the safe place of high school- the place I’ve leisurely swam through the past 5 years, even though I’m entering unchartered waters, I’m going to apply everything I learned in Fiji. The class of Global Perspectives 2011 is ending, but Fiji will always remain in my heart because Fiji is forever to me.

Earlier today as I was out, my phone had died. So as I was walking from the Canada Line to my house, I was able to look around myself. It is a beautiful day today and I live in a beautiful city so there were a lot of things that I could look at. The sky was blue without a single grey cloud. The grass was green with no litter. The dogwood tree had blossomed beautiful flowers, our provincial flower.I thought to myself how grateful I am that it’s finally summer and I’m so close to being done high school, a huge chapter in my life. As I was in my thoughts, I saw a homeless man walk by. A homeless man that I often see around Richmond. I felt sad but then I began to wonder if he was feeling the same about this gorgeous day. I readjusted my glasses as they were falling off my (small) nose and I wondered if he had good vision. Maybe he can’t even see the gorgeous day without squinting. Personally although my vision is not as bad as some of my classmates’s, without my glasses, I would not be able to see very far away! At the very least for sure I would know that this beautiful day would not look the same without my glasses. Even though this man perhaps is fortunate to be blessed with potentially good vision, the idea that he or others possibly may not and also do not have the ability to provide themselves with solutions to their vision hurts me. To me and everyone I know personally, vision is a basic function of life. But vision is also a basic right. I think everyone in this world deserves to see the world and all it’s beauty and all it’s ugly. I’m grateful that I was born into a family that could afford to have the ability to correct my vision. And for everyone else who was not, I hope one day I will be a part of something that will help this.

Today in class Matheny asked us if we had any regrets now that it’s been 2 months since we’ve been home. This idea encompasses a lot of things and a lot of memories that I can go on about but I think for the most part, I’m happy to say that now that it’s been 2 months since we’ve been home, I’m very satisfied with my experience in Fiji and I cannot think of a single regret. In fact, I remember myself consciously making an effort to avoid regrets. On the last night that we slept in Fiji, we had a movie night in one of the rooms and we watched Eagle Eye. Halfway during the movie, we could see from the balcony door that the sun was going down because the sky was a beautiful red. We all wondered aloud whether or not we should pause the movie and head out to watch the last sunset together in Fiji. Although we couldn’t reach a consensus and some people stayed behind to finish the movie, I remember I made a conscious effort to leave the room and watch the sunset. The sunset was beautiful and I was able to come back after a few hours and simply replay the DVD. A movie like Eagle Eye can be watched anywhere, but that last sunset will never happen it again and I am so thankful it’s a memory that I will remember.

Today is May 10, 2011. 2 months ago today, I was counting down the days to Fiji on my Blackberry messenger status. But today, I’ve written a Chemistry SL paper 3 and a English HL paper 2 and studied Communism in Crisis for 5 hours. It seems so surreal how the time has past by me so quickly. It’s hard for me to collect my thoughts together to write a blog entry (which is why I have been putting it off). Amidst my studying and my sleep deprivation, I’ve formulated so many “what if”s and so many “can we just…”s. I feel regretful that I let Fiji pass me by so quickly, that I let grade 12, that I let high school pass me by so quickly. It’s really counterproductive because time spent missing Fiji just adds up to time spent not studying and thus time wasted. But in a way, I’m still motivated by this very regret. I look at my exam schedule, 15 exams in 20 days, and then I look at this picture of Avishek and I smile. We found this article a month ago online on The Fiji Times. I’m just going to attach the article. I don’t think I need to explain.

CLASS Three student Avishek Chand wakes up at 4am everyday and leaves home an hour and a half later for school — on foot. He is one of 20 students of Wavuwavu, located about 17kilometres outside Labasa Town, who walk about six miles each morning to Wavuwavu Primary School. There is no school bus service in the morning apart from a 9.30am bus service, so he leaves home at 5.30am and reaches school at 8am. “I get tired of walking the long distance but there is no other way I can go to school,” Avishek said. His grandfather Deo Lal, 66, said the students have been walking to school since Class One. “Those children in Class Eight have been walking for the past eight years. Their sandals snap but they continue walking bare foot to school,” Mr Lal said. The children are able to catch a ride back home in the 3.15pm bus. “It is sad that there is no transport available for these little ones in the morning because they have to wake up so early and leave while it’s still dark. “The children leave even before the cane cutters leave their homes to the farms or else they won’t reach school on time. “We have written several letters to bus companies to provide a bus for the children but we haven’t received a response. “There isn’t any licensed carrier vehicle in the village that can help us.” The children walk to school in groups of between three and five, unaccompanied by an adult. “We fear for the children’s safety because they leave home while it’s still dark and it is such a long distance.”

Life is funny. As I opened this blog entry, I laughed a little to myself. It’s so strange to think exactly how far we (Fijians) have really come. It’s hard to fully understand what is happening to us because it is all happening to fast. Now it feels like it’s been ages since we landed in Vancouver, on March 31st. Fast forward exactly 3 weeks and here I am, sitting in my computer chair once again. Typing a blog of contents that I don’t really even understand myself. Earlier this week on Monday, 30 grade 11s, almost 28 Fijians, a handful of grads and all the teachers crowded in Matheny’s room. You could feel the excitement in the room, even from the Fijians. Matheny took the plaque from the Fedex box and he flipped it around. “Colts to Botswana 2012″. You could hear the confusion in the air, through the silence. Without words, Matheny walked over to the world map and pointed to a small nation above South Africa. Cheers filled the room. I don’t know what the emotion was that we all felt. I’m sure that among the Fijians, emotions are varied. It’s hard for us now, because it’s almost like we are no longer in the box anymore. We’re outside of the box, already, slowly and gradually. We’re outside of the box and we’re looking in. I know it’s hard for us because it’s been hard. But I’ve been so proud of all of us. Last week, class was cancelled completely for interviews and such. My Fijians and I would not let something like interviews occupying Matheny’s room stop us. It’s funny really because all we did was ask for permission to use the room next over. We had our own classes. We went to lunch together on the Pro-d day. These little things that we did and we created to face our problems make me realize that I truly and the rest of my Fijians truly have no reason to be jealous or envious of the grade 11s. We already had our turn and these little things we’ve done show exactly the things we’ve learned in Fiji. The way we solved our problems and struggles these past three weeks show our maturity. And these reasons and instances are exactly why I’m not mad or jealous of the grade 11s, but why I am happy for them. I’m excited for them. I still don’t know how I really feel. It’s such a confusion time. But there is so little time to really think about it, at the same time with IB exams coming up.

I’m home. It’s different here now. Even though Richmond is my home, Richmond is foreign to me now. It’s not that anything has changed about Richmond since I was gone. But it’s me. It’s me who has changed. My perspective on the world around me and my understanding of those things. And for that, I have Fiji to thank. A lot of my classmates are sad because it’s over now. To them, it seems that our Global journey ended the moment our plane touched down in YVR. But I cannot relate with them. I am glad. I am genuinely grateful that I was fortunate enough to be apart of this journey. And I think it is foolish to think that our journey has ended, especially because I see it that it has only just begun. It’s hard to put everything into words right now but I feel change inside me. I’m home, after 17 days. I’m only 17 days older but I’m a thousand days wiser.

We’re at the worksite again. Today is the last work day. Tomorrow is the Closing Ceremony. Mr. Matheny said that we’re all going to cry. I can’t think about tomorrow yet. Tomorrow is almost like the first day of Fiji. It’s definitely something I can’t make any expectations about. Mr. Matheny said today is an important day of our lives. I think that sounds weird because so far it seems just like yesterday. Just another day at the worksite. I’m not sure what to make of of our experiences so far. I’ve made a lot of connections to my own life in Canada and even some “aha” moments. I don’t want to write about them yet. I want to think about everything I’ve thought about fully before I can write it down. Because when you write something down, it becomes real. I’ve have more to say tomorrow, after we leave for the last time.

Hi world. I’m sneaking in a blog entry before we leave. Today we are departing later than normally (usually it’s 7) at 7:45. The reason for this is because today is Sunday and the contractors at the worksite have today off as a day of rest. In Fiji (like our nation… well some families of our nation), Sunday is the day that people spend in church and with their families. But we have a special day in front of us as well. First off I want to say that the past 2 days at the worksite have been so much fun. I have met so many locals and they’re all so friendly to all of us. Today I’m going to ask if some of the older children have emails at school maybe. My best friend at the worksite is Mr. Singh’s niece. She’s my age. Okay back to today. Today is the Festival of Colours. Mr. Singh told us that they’re going to pour permangerate on us. He said it’s purple. It was really funny because he said, “We have it in the lab!”. We are also taking a hike. And the Singh family also will sacrefice one of their goats for us and we will have the goat for lunch. We are invited to watch the slaughtering of the goat but I don’t think I will. I’m choosing this because I don’t want to be disrespectful to the Singh family. I know it’s a very important and generous offer of their family but I don’t think I will be able to watch an animal get murdered without crying or expressing my disdain. It might make me a vegeterian. And I love steak. I don’t like this situation. It’s really making me question my ideals and my thoughts on eating meat. I’m aware that all the meat I eat are grown to be murdered but… yeah. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet and I think I won’t be able to conclude on this for long.

We’re at the Singh’s house now. Everyone is waiting around the picnic table for the goat. Mr. Singh just walked by and said that they’re going to look for the goat now. Everyone is going to watch the slaughter. Or the sacrefice. Or the murder. We’re having the goat for lunch. I don’t know if I can eat it. I hope I don’t become a vegetarian on this trip. I feel like I’m going to cry. I think becoming a vegetarian is useless because just because I’m a vegetarian doesn’t mean animals don’t stop getting killed. But now I am being questioned… by myself. I hate this. Okay they killed the goat. I’m crying.

This is my second entry so far in Fiji. We’re still at the worksite. We just had lunch. The locals prepared an amazing meal for us all. We all loved the curry the best. It must have been the best curry I have ever had. That is not what I want to blog about though. I want to blog about Mr. Singh. The worksite is right next to Mr. Singh’s house. His family was so kind as to donate the land to the community so that we could build our project. Behind me right now as I type is the house Mr.. Singh grew up in. It’s so hard to imagine that my high school lab technician grew up in the house behind me. In Fiji. In a village. And to think that only a week before we left he was in the lab making different concentrations of chemicals for my Chemistry class. While we were eating lunch, Mr. Singh shared his story with us. I had been wondering about this since yesterday when we drove into the village for the first time. The drive from Labasa to Wavuwavu is more than an hour long. On the way here, in the bus, Mr. Singh would point to landmarks that he knew of. He pointed to his elementary school. He pointed to his high school. It’s incredible to think about how far he’s come. It’s inspiring. Mr. Singh told us that he had always worked really hard in school and put in a lot of effort. And that was what got him good grades. I know he’s being modest because I know how isolated and secluded his village is. Wavuwavu is tucked in behind acres and acres of sugar cane and mountains. Mr. Singh said his father had always encouraged him to stay and work in the farmland but Mr. Singh didn’t agree. He said that he had grown up watching the men work in the fields and he knew that that wasn’t something he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing. Mr. Singh left Wavuwavu at the age of 16, which was when he was in grade 12. That’s younger than I am right now. I’m 17. It’s so inspiring. Honsetly, I can’t even explain how speechless I was.

In about 12 hours from right now, my mother will be driving Joanna and I to the Vancouver International Airport and there is when we will begin our journey. I can’t put my excitement nor my anxiety into words so I’ll end this here. I’m going to be taking a journal with me and hopefully I’ll have many experiences to fill up the pages.