I have fond memories of my grandmother (or Nana as we would affectionately call her). Memories of her catching a bus to Auckland's North Shore where I was brought up, from her home in Mangere South Auckland where her and my grandfather lived. She would often catch a bus all the way to our house to babysit when my mum had to work or just to pay a visit. I don't remember my dad around much when my Nana came so it could have been that she came when dad was sick in hospital to support my mother looking after us. It always excited me when I would see her face appear into view. I knew she would come with treats for her grandkids (at that time maybe only two or three of us grand daughters that belonged to her fifth child, Iva).
I remember so clearly a time when she had come when I must have been less than five. Mum had gone off to work and I asked where the "Minties" were and was left feeling so disappointed when she said she didn't have any. Not long after she said she was joking but she would only hand over the lolly if we would brush our teeth! The teeth brushing was preceded by a hot bath that she took great pleasure in washing us little ones with her Samoan scrub (the Pulu) that felt like a pot scrub on my delicate skin.
Other times Nana would meet us in the city as coming across the bridge would mean another bus to catch and maybe another fare to pay. She would either take us to McDonalds on K'road or she would meet us down at the fountain on the bottom of Queen St in the heart of Auckland's downtown. These were exciting journeys for us as we didn't get to go into the city much. I remember hiding under her arm as she would protect me from strangers who had been drinking into the middle of the day.
As I grew up and we returned from our three year stint in Melbourne, Australia, Nana's visits became more like lessons to indirectly teach me about Samoan culture. Lessons like, when someone comes around to visit you offer them a cup of tea. And when you give them that tea with some biscuit or a rock cake (which Nana seemed to love), don't be surprised if the whole pastry ends up in the cup of tea before they drink it.
Also when visitors come over, make sure you give them all a kiss when they arrive and then again when they leave. If they are all sitting around talking, then you aren't allowed to stand up as that would be considered rude. So even if all the chairs were taken, make yourself comfortable on the floor but don't forget to cross your legs and make sure you're decently dressed to do so.
For an afakasi brought up on the North Shore in a home that was neither reflective of my father's Greek heritage nor my mother's Samoan culture but more so of the fact that they were both third culture kids and we had adopted the culture of the community we lived in which was New Zealand European- I desperately needed these lessons to come from someone who loved me as much as my nana did. These were lessons most Samoan children learnt from the time they were born-even if they were born in New Zealand.
Nana patiently allowed us to serve her as mum taught us how to prepare a bowl with hot soapy water and a towel to clean their hands at the dining table after they had eaten.
Later in life she patiently put up with us as we slowly led her to the toilet after not understanding what she was saying as Alzheimers forced her to revert to her mother tongue. It was then that we were able to see her strong willed nature while she endured the frustration of having to depend on the physical and mental assistance of her family and then eventually the nursing homes as her physical demands increased beyond the capacity of her children.
It was a late January afternoon in 1995 when Nana finally "gave up the ghost" on the living room floor of her eldest daughter, my Aunty Paulava. For some reason, the night before, I had a strong desire to go and visit my nana after a days work at my then job, McDonalds. We knew Nanas days were short and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible so I did what she had done so many times for us- I caught the bus to her house to be by her side.
The next day I stayed by her bed and she had visitors coming to see her and pray for her. She eventually started to cough as I and my Aunty and cousin gripped her hands and body until it became an empty shell. A picture of beauty and strength and a life well lived and lived to serve others.
As we passed the port of Apia today I recorded its beauty, unconsciously aware of its significance. Now as I lay in the hilltops of Upolu, the island my Nana came from, I am kept awake by this revelation:
About fifty four years ago, my nana and grandpa and their seven children departed from the shores of Samoa, from this very port in Apia to embark on their new journey in New Zealand. It was a privilege my Nana had fought for- sailing many times on her own to Fiji to catch a plane into Whenuapai , Auckland to claim her right for New Zealand naturalization that was granted to her because she was a child of her father's. The New Zealand government had given him and his offspring this right in return for a service he had done for them.
She set off from the shores of this small island into the great ocean waters, knowing what she was entitled to. Though she was rejected by the authorities that were in place at that time, she kept fighting for it so that she could give her children a better life. She risked life and limb to leave her country of birth, to go and get what only she could get (because it was her and not her husband that was entitled to it). Yet it was to be her husband and her children and her children's children who would benefit from it. What an amazing woman.
This island that took us almost four hours to get to by plane just a couple of days ago, would have taken her a world of courage and a heart of faith to leave. She would have travelled by the only means possible at that time, a boat that would have taken her three days to get to Fiji then a plane. Leaving her children confused and bewildered as to where their mother had gone, she knew that the price she was paying would be far outweighed once her children were living on New Zealand soil. She sacrificed so that others could receive. Not only did she do it for her own children but she also adopted so that others could have the new life they wanted in Niu Sila.
In some ways, I see my life as a mirror of my Nana's. Someone once said, "we stand on the shoulders of giants". This is the inheritance my Nana has left not just for me but for the many she left behind. A spiritual legacy that she paved the way for her daughters and grand daughters and great grand daughters to dare to walk upon. Just as her earthly father had given her an entitlement to a new land, so my heavenly Father has given me the right to a mission field. As her grand daughter and as His daughter I was able to cross greater seas by myself six years ago in search of this land our family could dwell in. Coming from a cultural norm that exists where the man gets the call first and goes out, I knew from a young age that this call was for me and my family. It took a strong man to let me go and explore this corner of the earth, knowing he too had a place in it but not having the history I did that enabled me to go with this assurance that we had the mandate TO go to this strange land. I can, because she did and because He empowered me to. I not only walk in the way of her path or stand on the shoulders of her great courage, I get to sit in the future of her faithful decisions. What a privilege that would not do her justice if I were to forgo it. My nana, born Methodist and married into Catholicism. A grand daughter of missionaries to Papua New Guinea and a Catholic Catechist who traveled Samoa to spread the good news, I honor you today from your homeland.
I remember so clearly a time when she had come when I must have been less than five. Mum had gone off to work and I asked where the "Minties" were and was left feeling so disappointed when she said she didn't have any. Not long after she said she was joking but she would only hand over the lolly if we would brush our teeth! The teeth brushing was preceded by a hot bath that she took great pleasure in washing us little ones with her Samoan scrub (the Pulu) that felt like a pot scrub on my delicate skin.
Other times Nana would meet us in the city as coming across the bridge would mean another bus to catch and maybe another fare to pay. She would either take us to McDonalds on K'road or she would meet us down at the fountain on the bottom of Queen St in the heart of Auckland's downtown. These were exciting journeys for us as we didn't get to go into the city much. I remember hiding under her arm as she would protect me from strangers who had been drinking into the middle of the day.
As I grew up and we returned from our three year stint in Melbourne, Australia, Nana's visits became more like lessons to indirectly teach me about Samoan culture. Lessons like, when someone comes around to visit you offer them a cup of tea. And when you give them that tea with some biscuit or a rock cake (which Nana seemed to love), don't be surprised if the whole pastry ends up in the cup of tea before they drink it.
Also when visitors come over, make sure you give them all a kiss when they arrive and then again when they leave. If they are all sitting around talking, then you aren't allowed to stand up as that would be considered rude. So even if all the chairs were taken, make yourself comfortable on the floor but don't forget to cross your legs and make sure you're decently dressed to do so.
 |
| Anuilagi Perese, our late Grandmother in her late 30s or early 40s |
For an afakasi brought up on the North Shore in a home that was neither reflective of my father's Greek heritage nor my mother's Samoan culture but more so of the fact that they were both third culture kids and we had adopted the culture of the community we lived in which was New Zealand European- I desperately needed these lessons to come from someone who loved me as much as my nana did. These were lessons most Samoan children learnt from the time they were born-even if they were born in New Zealand.
Nana patiently allowed us to serve her as mum taught us how to prepare a bowl with hot soapy water and a towel to clean their hands at the dining table after they had eaten.
Later in life she patiently put up with us as we slowly led her to the toilet after not understanding what she was saying as Alzheimers forced her to revert to her mother tongue. It was then that we were able to see her strong willed nature while she endured the frustration of having to depend on the physical and mental assistance of her family and then eventually the nursing homes as her physical demands increased beyond the capacity of her children.
It was a late January afternoon in 1995 when Nana finally "gave up the ghost" on the living room floor of her eldest daughter, my Aunty Paulava. For some reason, the night before, I had a strong desire to go and visit my nana after a days work at my then job, McDonalds. We knew Nanas days were short and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible so I did what she had done so many times for us- I caught the bus to her house to be by her side.
The next day I stayed by her bed and she had visitors coming to see her and pray for her. She eventually started to cough as I and my Aunty and cousin gripped her hands and body until it became an empty shell. A picture of beauty and strength and a life well lived and lived to serve others.
As we passed the port of Apia today I recorded its beauty, unconsciously aware of its significance. Now as I lay in the hilltops of Upolu, the island my Nana came from, I am kept awake by this revelation:
 |
| Driving past the port in Apia |
About fifty four years ago, my nana and grandpa and their seven children departed from the shores of Samoa, from this very port in Apia to embark on their new journey in New Zealand. It was a privilege my Nana had fought for- sailing many times on her own to Fiji to catch a plane into Whenuapai , Auckland to claim her right for New Zealand naturalization that was granted to her because she was a child of her father's. The New Zealand government had given him and his offspring this right in return for a service he had done for them.
She set off from the shores of this small island into the great ocean waters, knowing what she was entitled to. Though she was rejected by the authorities that were in place at that time, she kept fighting for it so that she could give her children a better life. She risked life and limb to leave her country of birth, to go and get what only she could get (because it was her and not her husband that was entitled to it). Yet it was to be her husband and her children and her children's children who would benefit from it. What an amazing woman.
This island that took us almost four hours to get to by plane just a couple of days ago, would have taken her a world of courage and a heart of faith to leave. She would have travelled by the only means possible at that time, a boat that would have taken her three days to get to Fiji then a plane. Leaving her children confused and bewildered as to where their mother had gone, she knew that the price she was paying would be far outweighed once her children were living on New Zealand soil. She sacrificed so that others could receive. Not only did she do it for her own children but she also adopted so that others could have the new life they wanted in Niu Sila.
In some ways, I see my life as a mirror of my Nana's. Someone once said, "we stand on the shoulders of giants". This is the inheritance my Nana has left not just for me but for the many she left behind. A spiritual legacy that she paved the way for her daughters and grand daughters and great grand daughters to dare to walk upon. Just as her earthly father had given her an entitlement to a new land, so my heavenly Father has given me the right to a mission field. As her grand daughter and as His daughter I was able to cross greater seas by myself six years ago in search of this land our family could dwell in. Coming from a cultural norm that exists where the man gets the call first and goes out, I knew from a young age that this call was for me and my family. It took a strong man to let me go and explore this corner of the earth, knowing he too had a place in it but not having the history I did that enabled me to go with this assurance that we had the mandate TO go to this strange land. I can, because she did and because He empowered me to. I not only walk in the way of her path or stand on the shoulders of her great courage, I get to sit in the future of her faithful decisions. What a privilege that would not do her justice if I were to forgo it. My nana, born Methodist and married into Catholicism. A grand daughter of missionaries to Papua New Guinea and a Catholic Catechist who traveled Samoa to spread the good news, I honor you today from your homeland.
Anuilagi Vaotuua (nee Perese).
 |
| About a third of our grandparents' descendants gathering for the Vaotuua family reunion in Savai'i, Western Samoa Uli and Anuilagi Vaotuua had 7 children after birthing 12 who left with them from Samoa and have had one pass (Faiga) since their passing. Four of those families are represented here. |
No comments:
Post a Comment