The Jacket by Graeme Lay

The Jacket by Graeme Lay

Every person deserves a chance in his life. Including the chance to get a good education. Even if it means that you have to live and study far away from home, family and loved ones. Tuaine is a young girl who came to study in New Zealand. The young student deeply misses her homeland which is far from there. It is an island in the South Sea, where the warm waters are as bright as the sky. In New Zealand the girl writes a diary. The readers will get the opportunity to look into it. Tuaine records all the events that happen to her. She also writes about her thoughts and feelings. The new place is not as warm as her native island. Here everything is so unusual and hostile. Every time Tuaine closes her eyes, she sees her own home and family.

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The Jacket by Graeme Lay

Young people should be given chances in life – especially the chance of a good education. Sometimes that means going to study in another country, far from home and family.

Young Tuaine is at school in New Zealand, but her home is on a South Sea island, where the warm waters of the lagoon are as blue as the sky above…

The Jacket by Graeme Lay

June 24

I am going to use this big notebook for my diary, and write down everything I feel and do. I brought the book with me when I left home. I used it for English at my school back home, and when I left, there were still plenty of pages not written on, so it will be good for a diary. At home I read a story called The Diary of Anne Frank. It was a very sad story, but I read it lots of times. Anne said it made her feel better to write things down, it helped her with all those troubles she had, so maybe my diary will help me feel better too.

Tomorrow it will be two months since I left home to come here. 61 days. Just two numbers when I write it like that, 61 days, but it is the slowest and longest time I can remember. How can 61 days go so slowly? I still think of home all the time, and I can remember every little thing about the island, except how warm it was. I can’t remember that, because here it is so cold all the time, but when I lie here and close my eyes I can see my friends, and my family, and all my favourite places. Mama and Papa, and Mele and Metua, and Rima, and the big black rock where we swam in the lagoon, and the path that goes to the top of our mountain, and the cool wind at the top. And if sometimes I can’t remember everything, there are the photos by my bed, and all my seashells.

When I was a baby, I was given to my grandparents, because I was the youngest in our family, and that is our custom. My real parents live on another island. Our village is called Vaipaka, and our house is a little bit back from the road that goes through the village, by the hill. When the last big storm – called Sharon – came, the waves from the lagoon came right over the road, but not as far as our garden, which was lucky. The wind blew all the flowers out of our garden, but at least the roof stayed on our house, not like at Mele’s place. A great piece of metal blew off their roof, right over the house, and cut their goat’s head off. It was terrible for the poor animal. There were some bad things that happened in our village, like Sharon, and some accidents on the motorbikes, but mostly there were good things, and I remember the good things, not the bad things…

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