Vaimoana Mase and her bridesmaids. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
Vaimoana Mase and her bridesmaids. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
Planning a Samoan wedding during a worldwide pandemic is not for the weak.
After being together since university, ours was the wedding everyone had been waiting for.
So when the venue was found and the date set last year, plans were quickly made and names for the bridal party - all 32 of them, initially - were jotted down.
That was, of course, before Covid-19's Delta variant arrived in the community - and then its big bro Omicron.
Before Covid, brides only needed to worry about colour schemes, seating charts and their dress.
I had those on my list too. But like every other bride planning their big day at the time, I was tuning into the daily 1pm Covid updates, telling guests they needed a vaccine pass and praying the wedding venue wouldn't be identified as a location of interest later.
Mase Josh and Vaimoana Mase on their wedding day last month. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
The big Samoan wedding during Covid times. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
As a Samoan bride, I also needed to sort out whose van would take the traditional fine mats to the reception and which cousin would be picking up the pig.
By the last week of January, Omicron was here to stay and Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced the cancellation of her own wedding as restrictions meant gatherings were limited to 100 fully vaccinated people.
We started to hear of weddings being postponed again and even our families kept asking whether we would put it back timewise. The answer was no.
I had a cousin who had to postpone her wedding three times in 2020 after unluckily picking dates that coincided with each sudden lockdown.
Last year, my now-husband, Mase Josh Mase, lost both his mum and little sister in a span of five months. My own dad has gone through the health wars several times in recent years.
Herald reporter Vaimoana Mase during her traditional siva Samoa. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
Now with the pandemic entering its third year, we thought it paramount to go ahead because life is too short.
Even the 10-people wedding was an option after Dad whispered a Bible verse to me one day after hearing my complaints, in which Jesus says: "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I shall be with them."
As the 400-strong guest list went down to 100, the big Samoan wedding suddenly started to look more like a palagi wedding.
Josh and his groomsmen - bar one. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
Vaimoana Mase and her bridesmaids. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
The list went from everyone to only aunties and uncles, church ministers and one or two people representing different branches of the aiga (family).
The flower girls and pageboys were all cut as the thousands of community cases started to include a high number of children. The band became a DJ.
Invitations turned into a phone call that was half invitation, half apology, as one half of a couple was invited and not the other.
Mum insisted we keep the large bridal party and so after the 10 bridesmaids, my parents and me, my half of the guest list went down to 37 people. Never in my life did I ever think I would have to choose just 37 people to invite to my wedding.
I was asked if I could squeeze in another guest. I had to gently reply: "Sorry, Aunty. I actually can't. It's the law."
Other than those in the line, the rest of my cousins watched the wedding from their sitting rooms around Auckland via a professional livestream link we organised so those overseas could tune in too.
Mase Josh Mase and those of his groomsmen who wear the traditional Samoan and Tongan tatau. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
The majority of our guests were older so left their masks on, and I vividly remember an uncle cautiously patting me on the back after the ceremony, instead of a kiss and a hug.
A few of our guests cancelled their attendance the day before after testing positive or having to isolate.
Josh's best man organised a surprise Tongan dance by his two sons - who ran in to perform it and then left immediately afterwards.
Less than a week after our wedding, the Government announced gatherings would be capped at 200 people instead.
I keep imagining what the day would've looked like had there not been a pandemic. More cousins and friends, more family items, no masks.
But there are lots of reasons to be grateful during this extraordinary and difficult time in the world's history; many of which remind me to celebrate life whenever possible and to remember what truly matters.
I have a little book of quotes that offers an inspirational thought each day.
There's one in December, by Australian writer Pam Brown, that goes: "We expect too much at Christmas. It's got to be magical. It's got to go right. Feasting, fun, the perfect present. All that anticipation.
"Take it easy. Love's the thing - the rest is tinsel."
Vaimoana and her parents, Puniloa and Tauamafili Tapaleao. Photo / Soul Sisters Photography
