In another life
Imagine Earth. Can you see our beautiful blue planet dancing in the star-filled galaxy? Yeah, if an evil genie told me I had no choice but to live another life, I know exactly what I would do. I would live in the bluest spot in the globe. To me, that spot even has a name: Niue. It is right there in between Fakakakai, Amuri and other islands so small that they are still unknown to most people. And that is why it is the perfect setting for this.
This dream of mine always starts in a time so long ago that Europe was nothing but the very pretty name of a potato farmer and history could be changed to a new timeline. I would be part of a population of, at most, one thousand people. It is like Belle's "provincial village" from Beauty & the Beast, but in a matriarchal society where a Gaston would be very unlikely and I wouldn't need to wear all those layers.
As a Niue warrior, I would explore other islands in the Pacific, join a crew and navigate places no human I knew had ever been before. After mostly peaceful and prosperous encounters with new landscapes, oceans and cultures, I would return to my family and spend time watching my babies eating coconut meat.
I would also love to become a leader. One of many that the people trusted with conflict, decision-making and even grief, leading all kinds of ceremonies, from the inauguration of a new ship to the painful celebration that came with witnessing one of our elders, swiftly and graciously, join the stars. I wouldn’t have spent so many of my years, as I did in this life, constrained by my womanhood and insufficient in it – believing I was not human enough because woman, and not woman enough to be anything.
I would form a legacy that doesn't stay on papers, but in the air, as grandmothers and grandfathers would tell children about the great sailor that helped bring new stories and words from faraway lands. I would know where my ancestors come from, and I would be proud of them. I would feel connected to the land and to the people in a deep bond that would give us the strength to be mostly good to each other. I would witness those common principles uniting Niue to other islands in a confederation not seen since the Guarani on the other side of the world.
We wouldn’t know about the Guarani, the Tupinambá and so many other humans. For a long amount of time they would be only a dream. Eventually, when we and those other peoples from an America that wouldn’t be called America, inevitably discovered each other, we would respect our shared gift for diplomacy. Maybe, even, laugh that, for so long, we thought the islanders were the only ones here, on an Earth that would probably not be called Earth. We would exchange goods, techniques, and stories. Together, we would go through storms and hurricanes, motivated to find ways to protect our homes from the wrath of the Gods. With my legacy, I would help to sediment the principle of embracing those who believe in other Gods and live in other ways.
In that world, the Niue population never had to bear the weight of colonialism and climate change. When I, the great sailor, died, I wouldn’t have to watch as the oceans sunk my home, along with the coconuts my children ate, the fish that gave us food and the palm trees that gave us wood to build our shelters and canoes.
The real adventure would be working in the earth and the sea without penicillin, but hey, even a short life, lived in a community surrounded by love and sun, is worth the risk of prematurely having to leave it.
