Factual Story Telling

“My heart is in two homes”

A Journey from Fiji to Australia

 

By Lauren Binns

Alena smile’s an unmistakably childlike smile as she remembers the faded paint of the monkey bars in the kindergarten and the washed-out mural of Jesus at the St Christopher’s Children’s Home in Fiji.

Two decades on from that time of her life, she can still remember being a toddler in the home and being held and nurtured by the Sisters that run the home. Her life then changed dramatically when she was adopted at age four and journeyed to Australia to begin the next chapter of her story




Alena at St Christopher’s Home, Fiji 2011

Alena’s eyes search for memories as she continues her story; I see the fuzzy images of her childhood come to life as she retells the stories. For Alena, she is never sure if these pictures in her mind are her own, or artificial memories conjured up from the stories the Nuns have told her since she has revisited St Christopher’s. She resolves to herself that, no matter their origin, these memories are the foundation of her childhood that strengthens the fondness and nostalgia she feels, as many of us do, for our childhood play spots.

“Do you ever think about what life may have been like if you had stayed in Fiji” I ask Alena. She half smiles but her eyes are thoughtful as she tells me that she constantly thinks about what life would have been like, and I know that living here must be an endless reminder of how lucky most Australian’s are to live in such affluence and security.

I’m told that since her adoption the laws in Fiji have changed so that children can no longer be adopted out of Fiji to other countries. The weight of this sits heavy on Alena’s shoulders as we both think of the ‘what if’ scenarios surrounding her life. “What if it were me living on the streets now, sheltered merely by a bus shelter”, she says as she knows this was one of the other children’s plight.

 “I am grateful, however, to both my homes in Fiji and Australia. St Christopher’s means something different to many people, for some it has bitter memories synonymous with abandonment but for me I embrace the opportunities I was given in both places.”  “That is the lesson I want to pass on to children that no longer have the same opportunity I did, to know the potential they have in Fiji.”

Alena returning to Fiji 2011

“Do you feel particularly more Australian or Fijian?” I ask, “Is there as strong a connection to both cultures?”

“My heart is in two places” she replies and nods enthusiastically at my question.  Alena tells me of her recent affirmation of her Identity on her trip to Auckland, New Zealand. 

“I was raised in Adelaide, Australia” she says “where there is not much of an Islander population. I was never made aware of my skin colour or singled out in Adelaide; never made to feel Fijian. But arriving in Auckland where there are many Fijians, Samoan and Papua New Guineans, I was immediately surrounded by a whole heap of islanders and everyone looked like me and then it suddenly clicked, and I was like ‘hell I’m Fijian!’”

“The people kept asking me ‘Sister where are you from’ and I’d say Adelaide, much to their puzzlement. ‘No, where are you from’ they would ask again and it occurred to me to say Fiji. It was then that I realised for this culture, the Island connected to your heritage is your home and identity”

This insight to Alena’s connection to her Fijian culture sheds some light as to why she goes back to visit the children’s home. However she also explains to me that she follows her mother’s example to help people and give back to the community.

“My mother has always encouraged us to give back” she says, “She has been raised in a culture where you take care of others because it’s right in your heart.” 

In Alena’s heart, she tells me, she feels a purpose and a need to help. “It not only because my mother expects us to or because I feel obligated to, but because I want to.”

  Revisiting 'home', Fiji 2011

Alena’s mother has always taught her that giving back is a human responsibility and that Alena need not feel a responsibility because of her start in life, but as an Australian with opportunity and means, feel that it is our duty.

I begin to think about this responsibility and the safe and cosy bubble that protects many a conscience from the injustice of this world. For a person like Alena, her eyes have been opened wide and raw to the realities of how life could have been, and how it still is for the children so close to her at St Christopher’s.  “How do the children feel” I enquire, “about you being adopted?”

“I think the general mood is envious” she says, “I have met some of the girls that were at the home when I was a toddler and they always tell me Alena you’re so lucky! I wish I could have had the same opportunity, wish I could live in Australia, I wish… I wish…”

Alena is studying journalism, studying to be a story-teller. This profession she tells me is inspired by her own story and the power it has to help people see the ‘other side’. 

I ask if there is a particular part of her story, she would like me to tell.  

As she speaks I am taken back to a children’s home in Fiji where a Dutch woman is about to take home two playful Fijian girls. Sister Burns, the head of the home, takes the woman aside and wishes her well for her new life with two beautiful children.

 The sister asks “are you aware though that they have a brother?” 

The woman says “no. I didn’t know, why did no one ever tell me? If I had known I would have adopted the three of them rather than separating the family.

“Where is the brother now” she asks.

“Here in the home” says Sister Burns.

Upon meeting the older brother of her two newly adopted girls, Alena’s mother resolves to adopt them all, much to the Nuns puzzlement.

“I cannot split up a family” she simply says.

 Shortly afterwards, a young Alena, her sister and her brother came home to Australia.

Alena’s story could be enormously different, had her brother been left behind.  The wondering and yearning for a lost sibling could have subdued the passion and purpose she feels to help her other ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ in Fiji. With the strength of a united family, she has a wonderfully powerful platform to tell not only her story, but other untold stories too.

Alena and Sanjuan, Fiji 2011