Day 5: Isa Lei — Until We Meet Again

There was no construction waiting for us this morning.

For the first time all week, we didn’t arrive carrying gloves, shovels, or water bottles ready for another day of work. Instead, we returned to the village around noon wearing our Habitat Fiji team shirts, along with our sulus for one final gathering with the community that had welcomed us so completely over the past week.

It felt strange walking back onto the worksite knowing there was nothing left for us to build. We had officially worked ourselves out of a job. And apparently, we had worked a little too hard.

Rachel, our Habitat Fiji coordinator, and Kaji and Suli, two of the construction leaders who had worked alongside us throughout the week, told us that we were one of the best teams they had ever had. They said they were going to miss how much we laughed, and that we had been moving through the work so quickly that they had actually started worrying they were going to run out of things for us to do. Which led to one final revelation: There had been a cement mixer available the entire time!

After watching us spend nearly two days hand-mixing batch after batch of cement, hauling it in wheelbarrows and proudly talking about how much concrete we had mixed by hand, we learned that they had intentionally kept us busy the old-fashioned way because we were getting through everything so quickly.

The looks on Dave and Katie’s faces when they heard this pretty much captured what the rest of us were thinking. We were shocked. And then, naturally, we laughed. I’m taking it as a compliment.

Our final afternoon in the village began much more quietly. We gathered inside for another traditional kava ceremony and shared three rounds with members of the community, including the village chief, Rachel, Kaji, and Suli. There were more jokes, more stories, and plenty of thank-yous exchanged for the week we had spent together.

Then we shared a traditional Fijian lovo lunch before beginning our farewell ceremony. And that was when the reality of leaving really started to sink in.

One by one, we received certificates recognizing our work and tried to put into words what the week had meant. Then the community began to sing “Isa Lei.”

“Isa Lei” is Fiji’s traditional farewell song, commonly sung when guests are leaving. Its words carry the sadness of parting while asking those who leave to remember the happiness and time shared together — essentially a goodbye filled with love, gratitude, and the hope that the people separating will remember one another.

The room filled with voices, harmonies, and emotion. They sang with so much feeling that several of us were tearing up, and I found myself looking around at this team, this village, and these people who had gone from strangers to such an important part of our lives in only a handful of days.

We took our final photos together outside the learning center we had spent the week working on.

The six posts we dug holes for were standing.

The veranda slab we mixed and poured was finished.

The windows and ceiling work were complete.

And scattered throughout all of it were memories that had nothing to do with construction at all — flowers handed to us by a little boy, puppies underfoot, terrible New Jersey accents, endless teasing from the construction crew, shared lunches, kava bowls, and more laughter than I could possibly count.

We came here to help build something for this community. But standing there on our final day, it was impossible not to think about everything this community had given us in return.

After leaving the village, I had one more very important thing to do.

Bula had another big day at the vet. She received her vaccinations and was spayed, putting another major step behind us as we prepare for her journey to the United States.

When I saw her, she looked happier and healthier than ever. She was recovering well, excited to see me, wearing her little pink collar, and already looked so different from the puppy I had met at the worksite only days earlier.

It’s wild to think that less than a week ago she was simply the little black-and-tan puppy following me around the village. Now I’m counting down the time until I can get her on a plane and start her new life with me in America.

That evening, we headed back to Sails for one final dinner together. After spending so much time there during the week, even the restaurant staff had started to feel familiar.

We invited Rachel, Kaji, and Suli to join us. Rachel and Kaji made it, while Suli had a very legitimate Fijian excuse for missing dinner: he got stuck back in the village doing another five rounds of kava. Fair enough.

Dinner was a feast. There was a massive seafood platter piled with lobster, prawns, fish, and just about everything else that could possibly come from the ocean, along with the pizzas, chicken, and other meals everyone had chosen. We followed it with some of the best desserts we had eaten all week.

But as good as the food was, dinner was really about having one last night around a table together.

Rachel and Kaji joined in on the stories and laughter. We talked about everything that had happened during the week and, because apparently none of us knows how to let something end before planning the next adventure, started talking seriously about where we might build together in 2027.

At some point, I wanted to say something meaningful to everyone. I had plenty I wanted to share — I just couldn’t get most of it out. Every time I tried, I could feel myself getting choked up. So I’ll say it here instead.

Thank you for trusting me to lead this team.

Thank you for believing in Habitat’s mission and being willing to travel across the world, walk into a community you had never been to, work beside people you had never met, and take a chance on something extraordinary.

Thank you for showing up every single day.

For working hard.

For looking out for each other.

For jumping into whatever task needed to be done.

For making each other laugh when we were tired.

For making fun of Dave’s accent.

For bathing puppies.

For hand-mixing a large quantity of cement when there was a perfectly good machine sitting somewhere nearby.

And for turning what could have simply been a volunteer trip into something I know I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

I could not have asked for a better team.

Near the end of dinner, the staff at Sails gathered together. And then, for the second time that day, we heard those familiar first notes. Isa Lei.

This time it was the restaurant staff singing goodbye to us. And once again, I felt everything.

The happiness of what we had just experienced. 

The gratitude that these ten people had trusted me enough to come here. 

The love I had developed for a village on the other side of the world. 

The friendships that had formed effortlessly. 

The sadness of knowing that tomorrow everyone would begin going in different directions. 

And the almost ridiculous realization that somewhere in the middle of leading a Habitat build, I had found a little puppy who completely changed my plans — and my life.

We took one final team photo, hugged Rachel and Kaji goodbye, then we drove away from Port Denarau and headed back toward our hotel in Nadi.

Eventually came the hugs between us too. Not really goodbye. More like, I’ll see you again.

One night, I wrote that I was trying to soak up every last moment because we would never have this exact experience again. Today, I understood that even more.

There will be other Habitat builds. There will be other countries. Hopefully, many of these same people will be standing beside me again next year. 

But there will never be another first week together in Fiji. There will never be another moment when this particular group arrives as almost-strangers and leaves feeling like this. There will never be another week when I meet Bula for the first time. And that is what makes all of it so precious.

I’m leaving this build with far more than I arrived with.

New friendships.

A community I will always remember.

A team I am unbelievably proud of.

Stories that I know we’ll still be laughing about years from now.

And one little Fijian puppy who somehow decided I belonged to her.

My heart feels completely full. Full of gratitude. Full of happiness. Full of sadness that it’s over. Full of excitement for whatever comes next. Full of life.

I came to Fiji hoping to make a difference. I’m leaving knowing Fiji changed me too. Isa Lei. ❤️

Day 4: Paw Prints and the Final Pour

Somehow, we’ve reached the point in the week where the project is beginning to look dramatically different from when we arrived — and today, we officially worked ourselves out of a job.

Inside the Educational Learning Center, the team finished installing the remaining windows and added a door, wrapping up the interior work we were given for the week.

Outside, there was one major mission: finish the concrete slab. That meant another full day of mixing cement by hand, loading wheelbarrows, hauling them across the worksite, pouring the mixture over the rebar, and smoothing everything into place. After days of digging, leveling, setting posts, laying plastic and reinforcement, and preparing the ground, watching the veranda floor finally take shape made all of that work feel very real.

And apparently, one local dog wanted to leave her own contribution to the project. At some point during lunch, she wandered straight across the freshly poured cement, leaving a perfect trail of paw prints behind. So somewhere beneath whatever eventually covers that section of the veranda, a little piece of her will quite literally be part of the building forever.

Construction wasn’t the only thing happening today. A few of us spent some time working in the garden alongside the pastor who has been helping lead this Habitat and community project. The property is full of things growing — papaya, breadfruit, eggplant, and more — and we helped weed and clean up some of the garden beds.

His grandson was also at the worksite again today and spent part of the afternoon picking flowers and handing them out to the women on our team. It was one of those tiny moments that had absolutely nothing to do with construction, but made the day feel even more special.

And then there were the puppies. After watching the dogs around the worksite all week, several of us stopped at the supermarket last night for flea shampoo, towels, a basin, food, and a few other supplies. We started the morning by feeding them, which immediately produced a noticeably more energetic group of puppies, and later gave the three of them baths.

They were not necessarily convinced this was an improvement while it was happening. But afterward, clean, warm, wrapped in towels, and finally getting some relief from the fleas, they curled up and promptly fell asleep.

Watching everyone on the team jump in to help with whatever the task may be was another reminder of how naturally this group has come together. Someone is always carrying something, mixing something, helping someone — or cracking a joke.

And there has been a lot of joking. Today’s running joke came courtesy of Dave and his New Jersey accent. At some point, we became very entertained by the way he says “water,” which naturally meant the rest of us spent the day saying “water” in increasingly terrible fake New Jersey accents. Dave has informed us that none of them are remotely accurate. We disagree.

We also discovered that Dave’s sweat marks somehow formed what looked suspiciously like Mickey Mouse, which required photographic documentation. It has reached the point in the week where almost anything can make us laugh, and I think that says a lot about how comfortable everyone has become with one another.

The same is true with the guys we’ve been working alongside all week. There has been so much teasing, joking, and laughter mixed into the work that even the hardest parts of the day rarely feel heavy.

By the afternoon, the last wheelbarrow of concrete had been poured and the final section of the slab was smoothed. And that was it.

We are officially ahead of schedule. There isn’t additional construction ready for us tomorrow morning, which is probably the best possible testament to how hard this team has worked all week. Instead, we’ll return to the community for our kava and farewell ceremony before sharing lunch together.

After the workday officially ended, I had one more very important stop to make — Bula. She spent today at the vet receiving her flea and deworming treatments and continuing the process of getting everything ready for her eventual trip home with me. When I walked into the room to see her, she immediately started yelping with excitement.

I had never heard her make that sound before. So naturally I asked the vet, “Has she been doing that all day?”

Nope. Not until I walked in. At this point, I don’t need any more confirmation. She chose me just as much as I chose her.

Tonight, we also wrapped up another day with dinner together. I handed out our Habitat Fiji shirts, and we walked across the street for Thai and Indian food, reflections on the week, conversations about future builds, and — unsurprisingly — a lot more laughter.

It’s strange knowing that tomorrow is already our final day together here. Last night, as all of us were walking to dinner, I remember thinking that we will never have that exact moment again. All of us together in Fiji. This particular team. This particular community. This project. All the inside jokes and unexpected moments and relationships that somehow formed in only a few days.

There will be plenty of time tomorrow to reflect on what this week has meant. For now, I’m just trying to soak up every last bit of it.