Alfred Tora

It’s been a minute, as my family and I acclimated ourselves back into Fiji. What was supposed to be a month-long homecoming after six years away, turned into a permanent stay situation. To say that it was an unexpected turn of events would be an understatement. We were blindsided and unprepared to shift gears and build our network here. But as our more creative counterparts would say in a situation like this, the show must go on!

When we got the word that we would need to extend our stay here at home, return time pending, our stay in a small university town in the middle of the Utah basin seemed almost like a midsummer dream—fleeting and feverish. The lives we had built from scratch there evaporated like a drop of water on a hot day and we didn’t have time to ball up and stay down. We had to keep moving. There was no choice. We had to perform triage, keep our heads low, duck and cover, and head for the high ground—all things I had done before during my stint in the military.

Of course we’re scared but who wouldn’t be? We had convenience at our fingertips. Our children had more opportunities than we’d ever had. Things were more accessible, affordable, and on time.

It was, and still is, tough going for the family as we reflect on what we had to leave behind. My wife was supposed to start her doctoral program last month, my oldest son was supposed to be back with his pre-school cohort, and my two other boys had their play dates lined up. I didn’t have as much to lose as my wife did, but it didn’t help thinking about all the buffet that I wouldn’t frequent as much now. While my wife was devastated at first, she quickly recovered and committed to making lemonade out of lemons. I, on the other hand, initially strong faced, caved into the same temptation that turned Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt, continued to turn back to wallow in all that we left behind. It still isn’t easy but I’m sure that time will heal this wound.

The mantra that my wife dearest and I decided to live by is that this is, quite metaphorically, where the “rubber meets the road”. We had grandiose ideas of our triumphant return after attaining all the education and experience we needed to make an immediate impact and although we came back earlier than anticipated, this had always been the end goal. With that in mind, we framed the situation as being ahead of schedule, arriving at our destination quite earlier than expected. This mind shift has helped us stay positive in a crappy situation. I’ve almost gotten over the buffets and chow spots, my boys still miss their friends and toys, my wife still wishes she was still around her mentors and cohort, but we’re all putting our feet forward and we’re still trudging along. That’s what is really important. That we’re doing all this together. We’re stronger, more experienced, and closer because of this and that’s all I could ever ask for.

We’re on the proverbial ground zero of where we want to do our greatest works, where we want to build on the ideas and ideologies that we’ve accumulated throughout our time away. We may have skipped a few steps but we’re right where we wanted to be and that’s what has been encouraging. There are still struggles we’re trying to overcome—the weather, the “Fiji Time” and don’t get me started with the drivers—but we’re doing it together and that’s all we can ask for.

Since we’ve been back we’ve gotten more opportunities to grow in the church, we’ve reconnected with friends, and have joined a couple of projects that are dear to us. An example of a project we’re working on is partnering with the National Employment Center (NEC) to register and train Suva’s unemployed while gearing up to the biggest Job Fair in the nation. Around 3000 people registered, a tenth of that trained, and 56 employers attending the job fair. If this is any indication, I believe this was all on Heavenly Father’s time.

So here’s to adjusting. To growing our network. To realizing our dreams. To friends. To families. To more opportunities.

Here’s to being back at home.