As some of you may have noticed – we kinda fell off the grid for a little while. Delayed replies to emails, DMs or comments, the lack of social media posts, Le Petit café was closed…
To tell you the truth, we were on the other side of the world celebrating our cousin’s wedding. The first grandchild on our mum’s side of the family to get married and my (Tailani) first best friend.. we HAD to go.
It was an incredible couple of weeks – we celebrated love, officially welcomed a new member to the family, we ate the best food, we drank the best wine, we talked, laughed, sometimes argued, cooked and just had the most wonderful time together ❤
We’re back home now – a bitter sweet feeling and it always has been. Leaving one home to go to another has always made me feel like I left pieces of my heart behind.
This made me think of a post i wanted to write a long time ago
Where is home? What is home?
I have mentioned in previous posts, our mum is Swiss – Italian, and our dad is Samoan. We’ve been blessed to have lived and grown on both sides of the world. We learned so much about two completely different cultures and have been able to take the best of both.
I’ve never really felt like I was out of place or that I didn’t belong – but I also know I never really fit in. Having two cultures sometimes means that you can pick and choose what values you want to hold on to and sometimes they’re different from people you meet in different parts of the world.
I sometimes get asked what it’s like growing up in such a diverse family. What country do I like the most? What are the biggest differences? What’s it like to live in Europe or Samoa? or my personal fave – do you get to relax all day and go to the beach everyday?
I can honestly say that I do not have a favourite place.
Both places have their own charm.
Both countries have their pros and cons
But most of all, both places are home.
Home isn’t really a place.
Home is the love you share with the people that are closest to your heart, it is the memories you create and the moments you hold on to, it’s the smell of your grandad’s kitchen or the hot & humid ocean breeze that kisses your cheeks in the morning.
Home is where you feel loved the most.
Not fitting in didn’t really bother me growing up – because I knew that the people who mattered didn’t mind that I may have grown up with a slightly different way of seeing the world.
Mailelani is a memory to some. A reminder of your grandmothers massages, the smell of the dewy Samoan morning or of the pot of Koko that is ready for the late Sunday evening snack.
It’s a reminder that home doesn’t have to be a physical place.
It can be the memory that you created in a place you love.