A friend of mine in Des Moines asked me to write something for his website on Buddhism, the Peace Corps and my experiences. I wrote the following which proved to be too long for his purposes and he suggested putting on my blog instead. If you're not interested in anything Buddhist related, skip this post and read the next one which is just about my last 4 months in Vanuatu. There are stories here too. And my personal practice is just that - personal. I do not share my beliefs with people in my village. But my beliefs inform my work and relationships.
Here you go:
When I first arrived I found many differences that were strange, unfamiliar and sometimes just plain unpleasant. As I moved through the first 10 weeks of training, gaining more understanding of the culture, economics and history of Vanuatu, I gradually began accepting and even enjoying the differences. During training we learned from other PCVs that nothing is at it first seems and not only should we observe intensely for our first 6 months, but we should also ask the same question at least 5 times before assuming we knew the truth of anything. Why? Well, everyone lies. At one point, I considered it impossible for the culture to survive should everyone make an effort to tell the truth instead of lying. Did this make it right, or at least acceptable? Although I don’t have a lot of Buddhists texts lying around my grass house (actually coconut leaf not grass), I was pretty sure lying was a big no-no in the teachings. So I pondered….
I once had 3 chickens (faol in Bislama pronounced fowl). Now, I have one. I received the first one in a sorry ceremony from an oldfala named Toama because he came into my house one night which kastom (rules of conduct embodied in the culture) strictly prohibits. It was a big fluffy boy. The second one I traded for some flour (using kastom economy rather than money to promote the economy) and it was a young girl I named Mary. The third I received from one of the bigfala oldfalas named Philomon and since it too was a boy I gave him Philomon’s name. Life was good. I fed them a little bit of rice, coconut flakes laboriously scraped out of each coconut after it had been husked, old bananas and anything else they could scratch. They came to my call and ate out of my hand. They greeted me in the morning. Ok, you know you’ve been in Vanuatu too long when you become emotionally attached to your chickens. Occasionally, one of them wouldn’t show up but I learned not too worry. They were growing up and the boys were finding girl friends and Mary, well, she was doing a lot of running away. Then, for several days, I didn’t see Mary and began to worry. There are a lot of youngfala boy who grab any faol and eat it when they’re hungry. I asked my family if they had seen her and they said yes, they thought she might be laying eggs. I even caught sight of her briefly one day. Then nothing. Every time I asked my family, they said they had seen her that morning. But I never saw her again. What happened? Was my family lying? Why? Why was it necessary to lie? Knowing that they were lying led me to believe they had killed and ate her, and I was not feeling favorably inclined towards them for awhile. As I prepared to write this, I thought again about this example of lying. I’ve learned more the culture and realize that their lying was a way of protecting me from being sad or angry. It was their way of taking care of me. So, does the flexibility required to deal with this apparent ambiguity of intent versus the teaching against lying mean I can conclude that lying is ok? What do you think?
Recently, the expatriate owners of a bungalow on Tanna left Vanuatu abruptly. I heard the story of their departure from 3 different people and they somewhat agreed upon the following: The kastom land owner had gone to court to expel them from the country because they had come here originally as missionaries and stolen land and were running a business. They were given 24 hours to pack up and leave. Everything in the business was carted off to another bungalow. Then another story surfaced. These owners and the expat owners of a second bungalow were run out because they broke the law that said expat owners of bungalows must have 15 or more bungalows while Ni-Vanuatu businesses only need to have 5. The story told by representatives of the owners told a different story. The first bungalow owner had fought and won 3 court battles with a man who claimed he owned the land. After surviving the burning of several bungalows and continued threats on their lives, they left because their health had deteriorated. And although they had come as missionaries, their village had asked them to make and run the business to employ village members and pay the village royalties which they did. They just won another court battle and their property can now be sold to a Ni-Vanuatu business. The second bungalow owner was thrown out, but it was because he tried to re-sell his leased land to other expats which was explicitly prohibited in his original 75-year lease. So, all of the stories I heard were false in varying degrees. Why? What is the intent or purpose of these lies? What is THE TRUTH? Is there only one?
Lastly, every man here will tell you the story of how he or his family came to hold their position within the power hierarchy of the community which extends over a large geographic area and is governed (so to speak) by nakamals and tribal affiliation. If you talk to enough people you find that no story collaborates any other story. One time I tried to understand the lineage of one family to learn who they were related to. What we call uncles and aunts are sometimes called the same thing on Tanna but they could be called mamas and papas too depending on whether they are brothers of your father or sisters of your mother. It is also important to understand who is married because if someone is your tawi (in-law), you can’t talk to them about things like reproductive health. So, as I explored this one family I heard three different stories. Finally, I asked the head of the family why every story was different. I learned that no one will tell you their true story because if they do it will reveal too much about where they really came from and thus not only give away their power but also compromise the power of others. Basically, if one man tells the truth then the “house of lies” used to structure village activities, communication, relationships rites and respect would fall down. Then where would they be? There is only one time the truth can be told. Ownership of land is determined by family lineage. Land disputes can be settled by kastom law when one of the men involved asks for a meeting in the nakamal. A group of judges listen to each man tell their stories. Since they really do know the true history of each family they know which one is telling more of the truth and then decide in that person’s favor. No one but the judges and the disputing men may be present. So the truth is conditional. And it must remain hidden from everyone except a few people. And, and and and…. Well things are really different here and sometimes thinking too much gets you nowhere. I have decided I must accept things the way they are, not judging nor endorsing, and sometimes being totally confused but living my life according to my beliefs. A lot of people trust me.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
When Things Go Well
It’s official. My extension request has been approved and I will be staying for another year. I’m happy about that most days. There have been some days though where I’m ready to quit. Not too different from the first year, but I don’t take myself as seriously as I used to when this happens.
The Women’s Center Project is going well. The new building is under construction. The village is adapting to building 2 buildings at the same time: the women’s center and a new dispensary. This is not easy and many would like to work on only one of them until it is done and then start on the next one. I don’t blame them either. It takes about 10 days for 25 people to carry enough sand and coral from the beach to pour the footings and floor for the dispensary alone. They use empty 25kg rice bags and the beach is about half a mile away.
The Windmill Project is still delayed waiting for the windmill tower to be fabricated. The local contractor has had very poor luck with fabricators and is now working with the 5th. The hope is that it will be finished and arrive here in May. This has been a major source of frustration for me because the project was funded and the money disbursed in June last year. And one of the donors is unhappy enough that they are threatening to ask for their money back. And I can’t do a damn thing. And there are a lot of people and projects depending on the power it will generate. Enough said?
I’m excited about a water and sanitation project the community is developing. I’ve been in a stalemate with them for along time over “my big project”. They kept asking me what I was going to do and I kept asking them what they wanted me to do. In January we had that discussion again. This time I put 5 boxes in front of them, each one representing a different project that I had heard some of them talk about at various times. If I was going to stay another year, what did they want? They told me!!!! Yay! Now the Water Committee is starting to develop the project scope and gone to the 5 nakamals representing 6 villages and obtained their support. The most exciting part is they are doing it.
I recently did an adolescent reproductive health workshop (sex education) for a group of youngfala boys. BIG step for me, a woman, to teach something like this to a group of males. They told me it was okay because I am an oldfala. Lots of very interesting questions, like “is it true that if a young man sleeps with an older woman, she will poison his blood?” I am now the major condom supplier to the village.
When I go back next week, I plan on doing some movie nights using videos created by Wan Smol Bag. WSB is dedicated to teaching about the environment, health, domestic violence, tourism, voting rights and other things through workshops, plays, peer educators, books and videos. A lot of their materials are aimed at young people.
So, work life is good. My guitar playing is coming along and I’m toughening up my fingers. Some of the guys are teaching me to play chords and picking and I hope to learn enough to play one of the John Frum songs with them. February 15 is the yearly anniversary of John Frum. I joined people from my village to watch the flag raising, marching and kastom dancing. Chief Isaac lifted up a new paramount chief and it was a woman! A woman born in Vanuatu to Asian parents. Me and Nate, another volunteer, talked with her and learned Isaac felt it was time for a change and after observing the changes in the world over the last 28 years, it was time to bring a woman into power. There are a lot of mixed feelings about this, only some of which are related to her being a woman. Some people are concerned because of her political connections. Others because of her financial motivations. Which stories are true? How will it turn out? Maybe that is part of why I’m staying – I want to know the end of the story.
Port recently received a shipping container of donated items from a Seven Day Adventist (SDA) organization. Lots of bicycles arrived along with carpet, couches, clothes and toys. After taking a look around I walked back to the village and came upon Wilson carrying his oldest son who is maybe 5 years old. He was sobbing his heart out. He wanted a bicycle so much, but didn’t get one. All of them were old, some in better shape than others. They’re getting a lot of mileage too, but flats are a problem and some of the chains are starting to slip and no one knows how to repair them.
You know you have been inVanuatu too long when you have learned how mother hens wean their chicks from their side.
Snippets:
· I ate my first turtle and my first flying fox (BIG bat) last month .
· A new fishing boat now catches fresh tuna and pouillet every few days and I can buy 1kg for $4.
· Bella, Pilot’s pig, is black like Tusker, chases chickens like Tusker, sleeps with the cats like Tusker, digs holes next to the house like Tusker, lays down and asks for its belly to be rubbed like Tusker.
· Nathan came for an unannounced visit – he walked 19 hours straight around the outside of the island and I found him sleeping in my house when I came back from the garden.
· Manuapin started a mama’s market and it is making about 4 times the money made by my village’s market. They tell me it was my idea. I think all I did was ask them where they went to market and where people from the South went to market and didn’t the people from the South have to go through their village to get to the nearest market. Now they want a women’s center too.
· The owner of the truck made a big “thank you for your support” lafete for the village and his boat caught a lot of fish, including a 50kg shark. Too bad the shark is their totem and they couldn’t eat any of it.
· My toilet fell down on Christmas day. I had a new one 3 days later. I have never ever gotten any kind of work done that fast in the village before.
· My host brother, Samson, went to New Zealand for 7 months to pick kiwi and apples. I miss his company and he took care of all those little things: cutting branches off trees, security for those difficult walks, fixing my house, storian over kava, putting up new roofs, finishing off leftovers, clearing bananas…..
· A woman friend came to see me one night because she had just learned her husband was living with another woman in Vila and wanted my help.
· A man asked me to help him write a resignation letter from a community development committee. He is the recognized head of one of the 5 families on the committee. It is a secret and why he resigned is a secret. Officially, I know nothing.
· A developer asked my help in finding someone he could trust to run his development in the Port area and identifying alternative energy constraints. Officially, I know nothing.
I’m learning local language and can do some basic sentences. It helps when I sit with the mamas and try to say something and they all laugh at me. No really, it helps. They don’t think I’m so scary when we laugh and they’ll help me say something right and then teach me more.
Chief Ronnie died at the end of January. He was a very sweet hold man and not just because I kept him supplied in chocolate. The nakamal had a big meeting with people from all over southeast Tanna because people believed someone was making magic that killed him and Chief Tobay last year. Old man Sarowe accused Ronnie’s son, Johnson. Johnson accused Sarowe. Yata accused a man who has been dead for 8 years. After about 6 hours, everyone got fined for lying. A few weeks later, a klebber or witch doctor, came and cleared the village of the “sick”.
I’m not too worried about cyclones anymore. Prophet Fred, another John Frum leader, has prophesied that Tanna will be safe until 2016. I am a little worried about tsunamis though. Lots of earthquakes originating deep in the ocean relatively close to us in the 7.5 range on the Richter Scale. And that volcano on Ambrym has quite a few people worried at present. Seems it is building up for a big bang shortly. Mt. Yasur on Tanna was more active last year than this one, but in the 2 years I’ve been here it’s shape and size have noticeably changed. You did know that Vanuatu was more prone to natural disasters than any other place in the world, didn’t you?
Now for a fun story. A couple of weeks ago I broke a tooth. It was hurting enough that Peace Corps flew me to Vila for a day. It had been raining for most of 2 weeks and the usually dry riverbed by the volcano was a raging black torrent filled with volcanic ash, trees and bushes. Our truck stopped and we were waiting for it to go down enough to cross – maybe 1 or 2 hours. A truck arrived on the other side to pick up the tourist we were carrying, but it too could not cross. One of the men went up stream and found a place he felt we could wade across. Since me and the tourist were on the same plane and didn’t want to miss it, we followed a group of men about half a mile up stream where one of the guides tried to re-cross the river. The current was too strong and he couldn’t. We walked further up stream, got in the water, tried to cross, got out of the water, walked some more. After another unsuccessful attempt, I suggested they look for a place where the river was at its widest because the current would be less strong there. They found one, tried it and then carried our bags across. The water came up to their thighs. By the time we started to cross the water was over our waists and it took 2 men for each of us to make any headway across. We went downstream about as far as we crossed. We were soaked with black ashy water, but on the other side. We climbed into the truck and off we went. It was raining so hard by then that the road too was flooded with about 6 to 8 inches of water – for the entire hour drive into Lenakel. We had about 10 minutes and went into a toilet, stripped, rinsed our clothes out in the sink, re-dressed with clean, but wet clothes from our bags and made it to the airport about half an hour to spare. I met a wonderful new friend, Ruth, and we both agreed that without each other neither of us would have attempted the crossing. It was scary but fun!!
That’s it for now. If you read this, send me some of your stories. What’s happening in your life?
The Women’s Center Project is going well. The new building is under construction. The village is adapting to building 2 buildings at the same time: the women’s center and a new dispensary. This is not easy and many would like to work on only one of them until it is done and then start on the next one. I don’t blame them either. It takes about 10 days for 25 people to carry enough sand and coral from the beach to pour the footings and floor for the dispensary alone. They use empty 25kg rice bags and the beach is about half a mile away.
The Windmill Project is still delayed waiting for the windmill tower to be fabricated. The local contractor has had very poor luck with fabricators and is now working with the 5th. The hope is that it will be finished and arrive here in May. This has been a major source of frustration for me because the project was funded and the money disbursed in June last year. And one of the donors is unhappy enough that they are threatening to ask for their money back. And I can’t do a damn thing. And there are a lot of people and projects depending on the power it will generate. Enough said?
I’m excited about a water and sanitation project the community is developing. I’ve been in a stalemate with them for along time over “my big project”. They kept asking me what I was going to do and I kept asking them what they wanted me to do. In January we had that discussion again. This time I put 5 boxes in front of them, each one representing a different project that I had heard some of them talk about at various times. If I was going to stay another year, what did they want? They told me!!!! Yay! Now the Water Committee is starting to develop the project scope and gone to the 5 nakamals representing 6 villages and obtained their support. The most exciting part is they are doing it.
I recently did an adolescent reproductive health workshop (sex education) for a group of youngfala boys. BIG step for me, a woman, to teach something like this to a group of males. They told me it was okay because I am an oldfala. Lots of very interesting questions, like “is it true that if a young man sleeps with an older woman, she will poison his blood?” I am now the major condom supplier to the village.
When I go back next week, I plan on doing some movie nights using videos created by Wan Smol Bag. WSB is dedicated to teaching about the environment, health, domestic violence, tourism, voting rights and other things through workshops, plays, peer educators, books and videos. A lot of their materials are aimed at young people.
So, work life is good. My guitar playing is coming along and I’m toughening up my fingers. Some of the guys are teaching me to play chords and picking and I hope to learn enough to play one of the John Frum songs with them. February 15 is the yearly anniversary of John Frum. I joined people from my village to watch the flag raising, marching and kastom dancing. Chief Isaac lifted up a new paramount chief and it was a woman! A woman born in Vanuatu to Asian parents. Me and Nate, another volunteer, talked with her and learned Isaac felt it was time for a change and after observing the changes in the world over the last 28 years, it was time to bring a woman into power. There are a lot of mixed feelings about this, only some of which are related to her being a woman. Some people are concerned because of her political connections. Others because of her financial motivations. Which stories are true? How will it turn out? Maybe that is part of why I’m staying – I want to know the end of the story.
Port recently received a shipping container of donated items from a Seven Day Adventist (SDA) organization. Lots of bicycles arrived along with carpet, couches, clothes and toys. After taking a look around I walked back to the village and came upon Wilson carrying his oldest son who is maybe 5 years old. He was sobbing his heart out. He wanted a bicycle so much, but didn’t get one. All of them were old, some in better shape than others. They’re getting a lot of mileage too, but flats are a problem and some of the chains are starting to slip and no one knows how to repair them.
You know you have been inVanuatu too long when you have learned how mother hens wean their chicks from their side.
Snippets:
· I ate my first turtle and my first flying fox (BIG bat) last month .
· A new fishing boat now catches fresh tuna and pouillet every few days and I can buy 1kg for $4.
· Bella, Pilot’s pig, is black like Tusker, chases chickens like Tusker, sleeps with the cats like Tusker, digs holes next to the house like Tusker, lays down and asks for its belly to be rubbed like Tusker.
· Nathan came for an unannounced visit – he walked 19 hours straight around the outside of the island and I found him sleeping in my house when I came back from the garden.
· Manuapin started a mama’s market and it is making about 4 times the money made by my village’s market. They tell me it was my idea. I think all I did was ask them where they went to market and where people from the South went to market and didn’t the people from the South have to go through their village to get to the nearest market. Now they want a women’s center too.
· The owner of the truck made a big “thank you for your support” lafete for the village and his boat caught a lot of fish, including a 50kg shark. Too bad the shark is their totem and they couldn’t eat any of it.
· My toilet fell down on Christmas day. I had a new one 3 days later. I have never ever gotten any kind of work done that fast in the village before.
· My host brother, Samson, went to New Zealand for 7 months to pick kiwi and apples. I miss his company and he took care of all those little things: cutting branches off trees, security for those difficult walks, fixing my house, storian over kava, putting up new roofs, finishing off leftovers, clearing bananas…..
· A woman friend came to see me one night because she had just learned her husband was living with another woman in Vila and wanted my help.
· A man asked me to help him write a resignation letter from a community development committee. He is the recognized head of one of the 5 families on the committee. It is a secret and why he resigned is a secret. Officially, I know nothing.
· A developer asked my help in finding someone he could trust to run his development in the Port area and identifying alternative energy constraints. Officially, I know nothing.
I’m learning local language and can do some basic sentences. It helps when I sit with the mamas and try to say something and they all laugh at me. No really, it helps. They don’t think I’m so scary when we laugh and they’ll help me say something right and then teach me more.
Chief Ronnie died at the end of January. He was a very sweet hold man and not just because I kept him supplied in chocolate. The nakamal had a big meeting with people from all over southeast Tanna because people believed someone was making magic that killed him and Chief Tobay last year. Old man Sarowe accused Ronnie’s son, Johnson. Johnson accused Sarowe. Yata accused a man who has been dead for 8 years. After about 6 hours, everyone got fined for lying. A few weeks later, a klebber or witch doctor, came and cleared the village of the “sick”.
I’m not too worried about cyclones anymore. Prophet Fred, another John Frum leader, has prophesied that Tanna will be safe until 2016. I am a little worried about tsunamis though. Lots of earthquakes originating deep in the ocean relatively close to us in the 7.5 range on the Richter Scale. And that volcano on Ambrym has quite a few people worried at present. Seems it is building up for a big bang shortly. Mt. Yasur on Tanna was more active last year than this one, but in the 2 years I’ve been here it’s shape and size have noticeably changed. You did know that Vanuatu was more prone to natural disasters than any other place in the world, didn’t you?
Now for a fun story. A couple of weeks ago I broke a tooth. It was hurting enough that Peace Corps flew me to Vila for a day. It had been raining for most of 2 weeks and the usually dry riverbed by the volcano was a raging black torrent filled with volcanic ash, trees and bushes. Our truck stopped and we were waiting for it to go down enough to cross – maybe 1 or 2 hours. A truck arrived on the other side to pick up the tourist we were carrying, but it too could not cross. One of the men went up stream and found a place he felt we could wade across. Since me and the tourist were on the same plane and didn’t want to miss it, we followed a group of men about half a mile up stream where one of the guides tried to re-cross the river. The current was too strong and he couldn’t. We walked further up stream, got in the water, tried to cross, got out of the water, walked some more. After another unsuccessful attempt, I suggested they look for a place where the river was at its widest because the current would be less strong there. They found one, tried it and then carried our bags across. The water came up to their thighs. By the time we started to cross the water was over our waists and it took 2 men for each of us to make any headway across. We went downstream about as far as we crossed. We were soaked with black ashy water, but on the other side. We climbed into the truck and off we went. It was raining so hard by then that the road too was flooded with about 6 to 8 inches of water – for the entire hour drive into Lenakel. We had about 10 minutes and went into a toilet, stripped, rinsed our clothes out in the sink, re-dressed with clean, but wet clothes from our bags and made it to the airport about half an hour to spare. I met a wonderful new friend, Ruth, and we both agreed that without each other neither of us would have attempted the crossing. It was scary but fun!!
That’s it for now. If you read this, send me some of your stories. What’s happening in your life?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
A Day in the Life
Here are a couple of pictures to show you I'm having a wonderful time in tropical paradise. A little sarcasm, sorry. It's not all fun and games, but New Years was fun and the first picture shows what happens when a bunch of volunteers gets together to celebrate. We went to the volcano first and saw a fireworks show before heading back to the treehouse bungalow and starting our tribute to the new year. We got started around 11:00pm so we had to catch up pretty quickly. Around 2:00am I decided it was time to go home, rounded up my host brother, Samson, and started walking back. It's only about 3 miles and usually takes about an hour. Little did I know that one can get more drunk the more they walk. I do know a straight line is the shortest distance between 2 points, however, it took us about 1-1/2 hours and I can only attribute that to the fact that we did not walk a straight line. When we got back to the village, everyone was singing bonani (kind of like choraling at Christmas) and Samson went in search of his wife, again not in a straight line. I thought it was best to get to bed. Not a typical new year's but it was a lot more interesting than last years.
The other picture is my current abode: Nipikinamu, tail of the fish. It was taken from the hill on the other side of the bay a couple of days after the party when me and a few volunteers went hiking to see the places where steam comes out and paint our faces with multi-colored hot clay. The volcano may be 8 miles away, but the entire hill is hot - hot on the feet, hot air, hot sun - really hot. And no, we don't think about what that means in terms of danger. It's hot and that's it.
Well, that's the fun part of living here. On the work front, I'm extending which means I'll stay until around June of 2010. Why? Well, my projects are coming along very slowly just like everything here. I feel if I left now I'd leave them half finished and I plan on concentrating on finishing them and then making them sustainable after I'm gone. Kind of like putting icing on the cake. I'm also learning to play the guitar.
I hope I’ve told some wonderful stories and given everyone an idea of what life is like in Vanuatu in my previous posts. I don’t know what you all think about what you’ve read, whether this adventure is romantic or idealistic or altruistic or unbelievable and surreal or unnecessary and pointless. I’ve been here long enough to have forgotten what it was like to learn how to live here without electricity, running water, cleanliness, or anyone to talk to who knows what life is like in the US. I take for granted the things I have to do just like I did in the States. So the other day I started looking at what I do just to live here that was not related to some kind of work or building and cherishing relationships with people. Here’s some things I found:
I walk across the village and say something to everyone I meet. It is pretty much the same thing: I’m going where? And they are going where? A ten minute walk to another village can take half an hour and while I’m there, it may take two hours before I leave because I sit and talk with first one person and then another and sometimes a group of people. If I need to go see someone in my village, it may still take two hours. A group of women may be sitting under a tree weaving, eating, washing or just talking and I’ll sit down with them for a short time. There is always something to talk about and when there isn’t, I listen and practice learning the local language which they enjoy teaching as well as laughing at me. Sometimes, I walk about just to visit with whoever I run into. Most of the children are no longer afraid of me and they sing out “Sandla” as I go by so everyone knows I’m coming.
Charging batteries for the flash lights, radio, camera, clocks with a small portable solar panel is high on my list. It only takes about 8 hours to fully charge 4 AA batteries. Then there’s charging the laptop, mobile phone and MP3 play using the village’s 60 watt solar panel. While this only takes about 2 hours for each one, it does cost me about 500vt (or $5/week). No light switches, and the cost of electricity is around $20/month. Water needs to be carried from the standpipe every 3rd day for drinking, cooking and dish washing – that’s about 12 gallons at 8 pounds each for a distance of only 150 yards. Since I also like to bathe every day, sometimes 2 or 3 times in the summer, I also carry a bucket with about 3 gallons a little bit further to my toilet/swim house each time. Sometimes there is no water and I go to one of the pumps about ¼ mile away and then boil my water for drinking. I used to be proud that I could get by on 900 gallons of water a month in Santa Fe. Now, I wonder how I could use so much.
The coconut leaf house is slowly being eaten by termites which leave these little itty bitty grains of something (wood?) scattered like around like someone has taken a handful of sand and poured it in one place. So every day, I use a broom made from coconut leaf spines to sweep the floor and veranda of the house. But, before I make the bed and before I go to bed, I also sweep the bed. Sometimes, I even sweep the bed in the middle of the night after I come back from the toilet. I light the kerosene lamp around the time the sun goes down. Don’t really need it for light because I have a head lamp, but it’s almost like having a real lamp. Sometimes I light a candle, but the risk of burning down the house is real and if I’m very tired I won’t because I’ll forget to blow it out before I fall asleep. Well, comfortable lighting is comfortable lighting regardless of the locale, candles are a potential fire hazard any place, but where is that termite exterminator guy???
No one wears sandals in the house, but that doesn’t mean the pandanas leaf mats are clean. Sometimes I wonder why I wash my feet because 2 minutes after I walk back into my house the bottoms are black again. No carpet cleaners and water ruins the mats, so sweeping is the only thing that can be done – and learning to live with dirty feet.
There is no hot water unless I boil it. If I’m cold, I’ll do that for my bucket bath, but most of the time cold water is fine. Dishes are always washed and rinsed in cold water. It works fine so why do we insist on water so hot it almost scalds the skin? I keep wash bowls covered tightly to keep the cockroaches and rats out. I think it affects the integrity of the wash water a little bit more than I think acceptable. Speaking of roaches, they generally don’t bother me except when I get up in the middle of the night to use the toilet and have to shoo them away from the small chair-like thing I sit on. Rats haven’t big too big a problem because my cat is VERY good, but I check the house every morning to make sure she hasn’t left a half-eaten one under the bed where it will lay forgotten until an unpleasant odor permeates the house. How do I know this? Experience! Again, no exterminators and learning to live with dirt. It helps to take everything out of the house once every 3 months or so and put it in the sun. It really dries out the mats and gets rid of the mildew smell. And, since I came back from Australia, I realized I haven’t seen a single ant. Maybe the massive quantities of glow-in-the-dark spiders have something to do with it.
Washing clothes takes me about 3 hours once every two weeks. About normal except that I hand wash everything, use a scrub brush and hang everything in the sun. I usually choose a day when there is little chance of rain, but the weather changes pretty quickly sometimes, so I have moved the wash to my veranda and waited as much as 2 days for everything to dry. No washer, no dryer but I think my clothes actually come out cleaner.
You can set your watch by some things in the village too. Since most people don’t have watches, they watch the sun. So about an hour before the sun sets is kava time. Almost every man in the village disappears and if I have been trying to find them all day I have to give up about a half hour before kava time begins. Sunday afternoons are reserved for practice by the soccer and volleyball teams. It’s a great way to start the new week spending a couple of hours watching them play. When the village fills up with children it means they are either on their morning break (check the sun), lunch break (check the sun) or finished for the day. The chickens really start crowing around an hour before sunrise, but it is a myth that they signal the rising sun. One or two always are crowing at some time during the night. So, no watches or clocks to be watched to make sure everything gets done before the end of the day. And no pressure to achieve more than is possible because there is always tomorrow.
Throw out time and still get people together to make some work? They know about the meeting, but they come when they are ready and have finished other things that need to be done first, not when the clock says 8:00am. I go and sit under a tree along the edge of the soccer field with a book, pen and notebook and wait. Somewhere around 2 hours after I arrive, enough committee members have joined me to have the meeting. Oh, I don’t arrive at 8:00am either. It depends on what I need to get done too. Sometimes I’m not the first one.
If you ever find yourself wanting to plant a banana tree – don’t! They are such dirty trees which have to have their dead branches cut every 2 weeks. They fall down on things – like my toilet – and break them. Their leaves shade the roof of houses making them rot quicker. They’re just way too heavy to carry easily when their fruit is ready and you have to hack them to pieces to move them. There is also this tree with a small red berry that the children love. They spend hours climbing through the braches searching for fruit, first one group and then another. The trees don’t seem to mind. I think trees are pretty much the same around the world – they are food providers, make a mess and give children some place to play. There are just different trees here.
Gardening – did I mention the garden is about 2 miles away? It is a lovely walk through the bush and one I enjoy. It is a long way coming back with a full basket or a rice bag full of manioc or corn though. Needless to say, there are NO grocery stores – the garden in the grocery, the variety is limited and you really, really must want something to work that hard to get it back to the house.
I chase chickens out of my kitchen. I chase my host mama’s cats away from my cat’s food. I put leftovers in my house at night to keep anything from opening the saucepan and eating it. By the way, food keeps for about 12 to 24 hours without refrigeration just fine as long as it doesn’t have mayo, coconut or fish in it. If it smells, I don’t eat it. I’m still amazed at how long some things keep and haven’t gotten sick by following the smell rule. Have all of the nutritionists, FDA, etc. been lying to us all of these years? Why is my blood pressure lower, my heart rate slower, and I can eat those recommended 2500 calories and still lose weight? Although a freezer and microwave sure would help when I’m dead tired and need to spend 2 hours cooking before I can eat. Oh well, there is always boiled dry manioc or white rice with a can of tuna and salt.
A lot of my day and energy is spent just living. Maybe I’ve said all of this before as part of the stories, but being in Australia makes me once again see the vast divide between our way of living and that of the people here. I see that we in the US have a lot more than the people here, but we exert just as much effort to live; it’s just different. We are healthier, better educated and have a higher standard of living. Are we happier though? I also see how much I’ve changed and what is important to me is still changing. It was hard getting used to the idea that the kinds of things I wrote about here were just as important as “working”, that spending time with people just talking was “working” even when we didn’t talk about any project, and that it was ok to read a book or draw or play the guitar to just take care of me. And, well yes, there is a time and a place for all work and I’m learning find it’s place too.
Last, I hope you all don’t think there is any complaining going on in this post. There isn’t. This is the way it really is and I guess I just want you to see it clearly. It is hard. I’m amazed and proud at being able to do this. Can you see yourself here, if only for a few moments, to try and understand what it is like?
The other picture is my current abode: Nipikinamu, tail of the fish. It was taken from the hill on the other side of the bay a couple of days after the party when me and a few volunteers went hiking to see the places where steam comes out and paint our faces with multi-colored hot clay. The volcano may be 8 miles away, but the entire hill is hot - hot on the feet, hot air, hot sun - really hot. And no, we don't think about what that means in terms of danger. It's hot and that's it.
Well, that's the fun part of living here. On the work front, I'm extending which means I'll stay until around June of 2010. Why? Well, my projects are coming along very slowly just like everything here. I feel if I left now I'd leave them half finished and I plan on concentrating on finishing them and then making them sustainable after I'm gone. Kind of like putting icing on the cake. I'm also learning to play the guitar.
I hope I’ve told some wonderful stories and given everyone an idea of what life is like in Vanuatu in my previous posts. I don’t know what you all think about what you’ve read, whether this adventure is romantic or idealistic or altruistic or unbelievable and surreal or unnecessary and pointless. I’ve been here long enough to have forgotten what it was like to learn how to live here without electricity, running water, cleanliness, or anyone to talk to who knows what life is like in the US. I take for granted the things I have to do just like I did in the States. So the other day I started looking at what I do just to live here that was not related to some kind of work or building and cherishing relationships with people. Here’s some things I found:
I walk across the village and say something to everyone I meet. It is pretty much the same thing: I’m going where? And they are going where? A ten minute walk to another village can take half an hour and while I’m there, it may take two hours before I leave because I sit and talk with first one person and then another and sometimes a group of people. If I need to go see someone in my village, it may still take two hours. A group of women may be sitting under a tree weaving, eating, washing or just talking and I’ll sit down with them for a short time. There is always something to talk about and when there isn’t, I listen and practice learning the local language which they enjoy teaching as well as laughing at me. Sometimes, I walk about just to visit with whoever I run into. Most of the children are no longer afraid of me and they sing out “Sandla” as I go by so everyone knows I’m coming.
Charging batteries for the flash lights, radio, camera, clocks with a small portable solar panel is high on my list. It only takes about 8 hours to fully charge 4 AA batteries. Then there’s charging the laptop, mobile phone and MP3 play using the village’s 60 watt solar panel. While this only takes about 2 hours for each one, it does cost me about 500vt (or $5/week). No light switches, and the cost of electricity is around $20/month. Water needs to be carried from the standpipe every 3rd day for drinking, cooking and dish washing – that’s about 12 gallons at 8 pounds each for a distance of only 150 yards. Since I also like to bathe every day, sometimes 2 or 3 times in the summer, I also carry a bucket with about 3 gallons a little bit further to my toilet/swim house each time. Sometimes there is no water and I go to one of the pumps about ¼ mile away and then boil my water for drinking. I used to be proud that I could get by on 900 gallons of water a month in Santa Fe. Now, I wonder how I could use so much.
The coconut leaf house is slowly being eaten by termites which leave these little itty bitty grains of something (wood?) scattered like around like someone has taken a handful of sand and poured it in one place. So every day, I use a broom made from coconut leaf spines to sweep the floor and veranda of the house. But, before I make the bed and before I go to bed, I also sweep the bed. Sometimes, I even sweep the bed in the middle of the night after I come back from the toilet. I light the kerosene lamp around the time the sun goes down. Don’t really need it for light because I have a head lamp, but it’s almost like having a real lamp. Sometimes I light a candle, but the risk of burning down the house is real and if I’m very tired I won’t because I’ll forget to blow it out before I fall asleep. Well, comfortable lighting is comfortable lighting regardless of the locale, candles are a potential fire hazard any place, but where is that termite exterminator guy???
No one wears sandals in the house, but that doesn’t mean the pandanas leaf mats are clean. Sometimes I wonder why I wash my feet because 2 minutes after I walk back into my house the bottoms are black again. No carpet cleaners and water ruins the mats, so sweeping is the only thing that can be done – and learning to live with dirty feet.
There is no hot water unless I boil it. If I’m cold, I’ll do that for my bucket bath, but most of the time cold water is fine. Dishes are always washed and rinsed in cold water. It works fine so why do we insist on water so hot it almost scalds the skin? I keep wash bowls covered tightly to keep the cockroaches and rats out. I think it affects the integrity of the wash water a little bit more than I think acceptable. Speaking of roaches, they generally don’t bother me except when I get up in the middle of the night to use the toilet and have to shoo them away from the small chair-like thing I sit on. Rats haven’t big too big a problem because my cat is VERY good, but I check the house every morning to make sure she hasn’t left a half-eaten one under the bed where it will lay forgotten until an unpleasant odor permeates the house. How do I know this? Experience! Again, no exterminators and learning to live with dirt. It helps to take everything out of the house once every 3 months or so and put it in the sun. It really dries out the mats and gets rid of the mildew smell. And, since I came back from Australia, I realized I haven’t seen a single ant. Maybe the massive quantities of glow-in-the-dark spiders have something to do with it.
Washing clothes takes me about 3 hours once every two weeks. About normal except that I hand wash everything, use a scrub brush and hang everything in the sun. I usually choose a day when there is little chance of rain, but the weather changes pretty quickly sometimes, so I have moved the wash to my veranda and waited as much as 2 days for everything to dry. No washer, no dryer but I think my clothes actually come out cleaner.
You can set your watch by some things in the village too. Since most people don’t have watches, they watch the sun. So about an hour before the sun sets is kava time. Almost every man in the village disappears and if I have been trying to find them all day I have to give up about a half hour before kava time begins. Sunday afternoons are reserved for practice by the soccer and volleyball teams. It’s a great way to start the new week spending a couple of hours watching them play. When the village fills up with children it means they are either on their morning break (check the sun), lunch break (check the sun) or finished for the day. The chickens really start crowing around an hour before sunrise, but it is a myth that they signal the rising sun. One or two always are crowing at some time during the night. So, no watches or clocks to be watched to make sure everything gets done before the end of the day. And no pressure to achieve more than is possible because there is always tomorrow.
Throw out time and still get people together to make some work? They know about the meeting, but they come when they are ready and have finished other things that need to be done first, not when the clock says 8:00am. I go and sit under a tree along the edge of the soccer field with a book, pen and notebook and wait. Somewhere around 2 hours after I arrive, enough committee members have joined me to have the meeting. Oh, I don’t arrive at 8:00am either. It depends on what I need to get done too. Sometimes I’m not the first one.
If you ever find yourself wanting to plant a banana tree – don’t! They are such dirty trees which have to have their dead branches cut every 2 weeks. They fall down on things – like my toilet – and break them. Their leaves shade the roof of houses making them rot quicker. They’re just way too heavy to carry easily when their fruit is ready and you have to hack them to pieces to move them. There is also this tree with a small red berry that the children love. They spend hours climbing through the braches searching for fruit, first one group and then another. The trees don’t seem to mind. I think trees are pretty much the same around the world – they are food providers, make a mess and give children some place to play. There are just different trees here.
Gardening – did I mention the garden is about 2 miles away? It is a lovely walk through the bush and one I enjoy. It is a long way coming back with a full basket or a rice bag full of manioc or corn though. Needless to say, there are NO grocery stores – the garden in the grocery, the variety is limited and you really, really must want something to work that hard to get it back to the house.
I chase chickens out of my kitchen. I chase my host mama’s cats away from my cat’s food. I put leftovers in my house at night to keep anything from opening the saucepan and eating it. By the way, food keeps for about 12 to 24 hours without refrigeration just fine as long as it doesn’t have mayo, coconut or fish in it. If it smells, I don’t eat it. I’m still amazed at how long some things keep and haven’t gotten sick by following the smell rule. Have all of the nutritionists, FDA, etc. been lying to us all of these years? Why is my blood pressure lower, my heart rate slower, and I can eat those recommended 2500 calories and still lose weight? Although a freezer and microwave sure would help when I’m dead tired and need to spend 2 hours cooking before I can eat. Oh well, there is always boiled dry manioc or white rice with a can of tuna and salt.
A lot of my day and energy is spent just living. Maybe I’ve said all of this before as part of the stories, but being in Australia makes me once again see the vast divide between our way of living and that of the people here. I see that we in the US have a lot more than the people here, but we exert just as much effort to live; it’s just different. We are healthier, better educated and have a higher standard of living. Are we happier though? I also see how much I’ve changed and what is important to me is still changing. It was hard getting used to the idea that the kinds of things I wrote about here were just as important as “working”, that spending time with people just talking was “working” even when we didn’t talk about any project, and that it was ok to read a book or draw or play the guitar to just take care of me. And, well yes, there is a time and a place for all work and I’m learning find it’s place too.
Last, I hope you all don’t think there is any complaining going on in this post. There isn’t. This is the way it really is and I guess I just want you to see it clearly. It is hard. I’m amazed and proud at being able to do this. Can you see yourself here, if only for a few moments, to try and understand what it is like?
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Amazing Stories 1
PS (first!): I'm loading this from Tanna on a dial-up connection so it is VERY slow. Next time I'm in Vila, I'll add some pictures - especially of my buchi (namesake) - Sandy
Just back from Australia and find myself with plenty of time in Vila for a change which means I get to write a LOT about everything that has happened in the last – oh my – 5 months! First, Australia was FANTASTIC. I met up with a long time friend of mine, Martha at the airport at 11:00am in late October with a bottle of wine and 2 glasses. Well, actually 2 coffee mugs. After a delicious lunch we indulged in massages and some great Greek food, thanks to a young man I met in the airport in Sydney who not only recommended it but worked there. New friend and he might visit Vanuatu next year! We stayed in Melbourne for a few days and then headed to Alice Springs and Uluru (Ayers Rock) for a 4 day outback safari. We were a little surprised to find ourselves watching the sunset at Uluru with glasses of champagne in our hands! Seems we got upgraded to the “deluxe” tour because not enough people had signed up for the 4 day basic tour. That meant wine with every meal, no cooking or cleaning and permanent tents with real beds, sheets and pillows. We DID NOT complain. However, I wanted to sleep in a swag, under the stars and did that every night. If the Peace Corps could provide mattresses like those inside the swags I think they’d make a lot of volunteers happy. We did a lot of hiking and it was hot, like 38 C or 100 F. We saw wallabies, wild camels and witchety grubs. One guy even ate one – a big white worm that is supposed to taste like raw egg – no thank you! At one creek, me and a couple of other people swam across to the other side and took a walk down the canyon. The water was incredibly cold, the canyon beautiful. As we entered, a chorus of sound stretched out in front of us – some kind of bird or animal early warning system.
We saw a lot of wildlife, learned a lot about the history of Australia both socially and geologically, and drank a lot of wine. Oh, and ate a lot of good food! Wine was a major theme or our stay in the Adelaide area. Thanks to Martha, we got a private tour of the Molly Dooker winery and I must say that I learned to love Shiraz as a result. Since most of their distribution is in the US you might be able to find it and try it too. We went to Kangaroo Island, the Great Ocean Road, and lots more. I could spend the entire blog just on our trip. Great company, great scenery, great food and of course, great wine!
I also got to see a dermatologist and had a basal cell carinoma removed which was good even if I do have “the mark of Zorro” on my forehead. It is healing nicely and I had the last of the stitches removed after I returned to site. The only advice from the PC medical officer was to keep it clean. I tried exploring my writing style on this topic since I found it somewhat ironic that the one thing I can’t do at site is keep anything clean.
Ok, now for a little bad news, just to get it out of the way. Tusker my dog (and Larry’s) got hit by a truck at the beginning of July and died. We buried him with some bananas (his favorite) and his toys and planted petunas and marked the edge of his grave with upturned Tusker beer bottles. Seems appropriate, huh?
We also lost my namesake just 3 weeks ago. Ester Sandra struggled with a respiratory problem for a long time and after all of the kastom medicine failed, she went to the hospital. Apparently “hart blong hem i kat fulap toti” (her heart was filled with dirty) and after she recovered from her cold/pneumonia, they gave her medicine to take for her heart. She and her mom were also given medicine for “sik blong faol” (illness coming from chickens). She fought really hard. I only wish she had learned to smile more.
The oldest chief in the village died last week too. He was the titular leader of the nakamal and I’m unsure what his passing will mean in terms of village politics. I’ll probably not find out anytime soon and I may be gone before anything happens anyway.
Two other chiefs tried to kill each other recently, but were unsuccessful. It appears Jimmy was upset about a pig and used something akin to a 4x4 piece of wood to knock Phil upside the head. Now, if it were anyone but man-Tanna, the blow would not only have knocked him down but also killed him. Phil is over 80, but is recovering from the cracked skull and concussion. His two sons weren’t real happy and so they beat Jimmy up or rather down to the ground and kicked the living sh*t out of him. Several broken ribs later he too is recovering. He had friends though and they weren’t happy either and so men from 7 (yes not 1, but 7) villages went to Phil’s place and tore down all of their houses and destroyed a lot of their things. The word went out to all of the women who were in the gardens to go back to the village because the gardens are close to Phil’s place and the men were going to be looking for Phil’s family in the gardens if they didn’t find them in the village, and if they would “kil” (hit, beat up) anyone they found. Me and a friend of mine, Jacobeth, we on our way to the gardens and decided to go anyway, but we hurried. This basically means we only stayed in the garden for 2 hours not 4. One of the leaders of the nakamal by the 7 villages sent word to the men in our village to stay out of the fight because the fight would only come inside the village if they brought it there by interfering. After, some men from the South were planning on going to the village and make the same damage to the houses belonging to Jimmy’s family. However, they haven’t gotten around to it yet. So everything was a little interesting for a couple of days, but ultimately safe.
Seems to be the taem (time) for raos (fights). Lots of village meetings about things like women leaving their men, women fighting with women over men, jealousy over sharing cigarettes or other things, disrespect for elders, stealing, etc. Yaoma kils the tamtam early early and everyone starts to gather under the meeting tree. The talk goes on and on and on, anyone with something to say waiting politely until the previous speaker is finished, pausing briefly, and then standing up and speaking. The talk goes on and on and on until the issues is decided, the fines levied and payments made. One side usually pays something like a pig and some kava and the other side does too. I haven’t seen a one sided fine come out of these meetings yet. Maybe that’s what the sori ceremonies are about because they are definitely one-sided.
I almost found myself in one of these meetings too. Seems I was slow in paying to charge my mobile like everyone else here, but he didn’t like it. Seems too that it is ok for me to answer his phone and take messages when he is gone, but not to use it to make calls which I pay for. And finally, I learned it is not ok to ask the same questions about some other donor activities that other members of the village ask. After some yelling - by him, shoving and pushing – by him, and a LOT of calm words by me, we came to an understanding and he apologized. If he hadn’t, I would have had to go to Yaoma and ask him to kil the tamtam. Not because of the supposed rightness of my position – there is not kastom about the matters we differed on, but because he physically and orally assaulted me – which is village business because I’m their Peace Corps person. Finished now – at least in theory. Sometimes I’m a bit confused as to what standard I’m expected to live at sometimes – like man-Tanna or not?
All that aggression was good for something though. The Nipikinamu Futbol Team won the All-Tanna Futbol Championship this year! YAY!!! They almost won last year but the title-holding team refused to play the final round. This year they beat their asses!! And won 200,000 vatu or roughly $200. Next year, the tournament will be close to my village and so I’ll be able to watch the preliminaries as well as the final. The village is planning a celebration around Christmas and I’ll be presenting a framed team picture to them. They used the money to start a small business selling mazut (gasoline) to taxi trucks.
Just back from Australia and find myself with plenty of time in Vila for a change which means I get to write a LOT about everything that has happened in the last – oh my – 5 months! First, Australia was FANTASTIC. I met up with a long time friend of mine, Martha at the airport at 11:00am in late October with a bottle of wine and 2 glasses. Well, actually 2 coffee mugs. After a delicious lunch we indulged in massages and some great Greek food, thanks to a young man I met in the airport in Sydney who not only recommended it but worked there. New friend and he might visit Vanuatu next year! We stayed in Melbourne for a few days and then headed to Alice Springs and Uluru (Ayers Rock) for a 4 day outback safari. We were a little surprised to find ourselves watching the sunset at Uluru with glasses of champagne in our hands! Seems we got upgraded to the “deluxe” tour because not enough people had signed up for the 4 day basic tour. That meant wine with every meal, no cooking or cleaning and permanent tents with real beds, sheets and pillows. We DID NOT complain. However, I wanted to sleep in a swag, under the stars and did that every night. If the Peace Corps could provide mattresses like those inside the swags I think they’d make a lot of volunteers happy. We did a lot of hiking and it was hot, like 38 C or 100 F. We saw wallabies, wild camels and witchety grubs. One guy even ate one – a big white worm that is supposed to taste like raw egg – no thank you! At one creek, me and a couple of other people swam across to the other side and took a walk down the canyon. The water was incredibly cold, the canyon beautiful. As we entered, a chorus of sound stretched out in front of us – some kind of bird or animal early warning system.
We saw a lot of wildlife, learned a lot about the history of Australia both socially and geologically, and drank a lot of wine. Oh, and ate a lot of good food! Wine was a major theme or our stay in the Adelaide area. Thanks to Martha, we got a private tour of the Molly Dooker winery and I must say that I learned to love Shiraz as a result. Since most of their distribution is in the US you might be able to find it and try it too. We went to Kangaroo Island, the Great Ocean Road, and lots more. I could spend the entire blog just on our trip. Great company, great scenery, great food and of course, great wine!
I also got to see a dermatologist and had a basal cell carinoma removed which was good even if I do have “the mark of Zorro” on my forehead. It is healing nicely and I had the last of the stitches removed after I returned to site. The only advice from the PC medical officer was to keep it clean. I tried exploring my writing style on this topic since I found it somewhat ironic that the one thing I can’t do at site is keep anything clean.
Ok, now for a little bad news, just to get it out of the way. Tusker my dog (and Larry’s) got hit by a truck at the beginning of July and died. We buried him with some bananas (his favorite) and his toys and planted petunas and marked the edge of his grave with upturned Tusker beer bottles. Seems appropriate, huh?
We also lost my namesake just 3 weeks ago. Ester Sandra struggled with a respiratory problem for a long time and after all of the kastom medicine failed, she went to the hospital. Apparently “hart blong hem i kat fulap toti” (her heart was filled with dirty) and after she recovered from her cold/pneumonia, they gave her medicine to take for her heart. She and her mom were also given medicine for “sik blong faol” (illness coming from chickens). She fought really hard. I only wish she had learned to smile more.
The oldest chief in the village died last week too. He was the titular leader of the nakamal and I’m unsure what his passing will mean in terms of village politics. I’ll probably not find out anytime soon and I may be gone before anything happens anyway.
Two other chiefs tried to kill each other recently, but were unsuccessful. It appears Jimmy was upset about a pig and used something akin to a 4x4 piece of wood to knock Phil upside the head. Now, if it were anyone but man-Tanna, the blow would not only have knocked him down but also killed him. Phil is over 80, but is recovering from the cracked skull and concussion. His two sons weren’t real happy and so they beat Jimmy up or rather down to the ground and kicked the living sh*t out of him. Several broken ribs later he too is recovering. He had friends though and they weren’t happy either and so men from 7 (yes not 1, but 7) villages went to Phil’s place and tore down all of their houses and destroyed a lot of their things. The word went out to all of the women who were in the gardens to go back to the village because the gardens are close to Phil’s place and the men were going to be looking for Phil’s family in the gardens if they didn’t find them in the village, and if they would “kil” (hit, beat up) anyone they found. Me and a friend of mine, Jacobeth, we on our way to the gardens and decided to go anyway, but we hurried. This basically means we only stayed in the garden for 2 hours not 4. One of the leaders of the nakamal by the 7 villages sent word to the men in our village to stay out of the fight because the fight would only come inside the village if they brought it there by interfering. After, some men from the South were planning on going to the village and make the same damage to the houses belonging to Jimmy’s family. However, they haven’t gotten around to it yet. So everything was a little interesting for a couple of days, but ultimately safe.
Seems to be the taem (time) for raos (fights). Lots of village meetings about things like women leaving their men, women fighting with women over men, jealousy over sharing cigarettes or other things, disrespect for elders, stealing, etc. Yaoma kils the tamtam early early and everyone starts to gather under the meeting tree. The talk goes on and on and on, anyone with something to say waiting politely until the previous speaker is finished, pausing briefly, and then standing up and speaking. The talk goes on and on and on until the issues is decided, the fines levied and payments made. One side usually pays something like a pig and some kava and the other side does too. I haven’t seen a one sided fine come out of these meetings yet. Maybe that’s what the sori ceremonies are about because they are definitely one-sided.
I almost found myself in one of these meetings too. Seems I was slow in paying to charge my mobile like everyone else here, but he didn’t like it. Seems too that it is ok for me to answer his phone and take messages when he is gone, but not to use it to make calls which I pay for. And finally, I learned it is not ok to ask the same questions about some other donor activities that other members of the village ask. After some yelling - by him, shoving and pushing – by him, and a LOT of calm words by me, we came to an understanding and he apologized. If he hadn’t, I would have had to go to Yaoma and ask him to kil the tamtam. Not because of the supposed rightness of my position – there is not kastom about the matters we differed on, but because he physically and orally assaulted me – which is village business because I’m their Peace Corps person. Finished now – at least in theory. Sometimes I’m a bit confused as to what standard I’m expected to live at sometimes – like man-Tanna or not?
All that aggression was good for something though. The Nipikinamu Futbol Team won the All-Tanna Futbol Championship this year! YAY!!! They almost won last year but the title-holding team refused to play the final round. This year they beat their asses!! And won 200,000 vatu or roughly $200. Next year, the tournament will be close to my village and so I’ll be able to watch the preliminaries as well as the final. The village is planning a celebration around Christmas and I’ll be presenting a framed team picture to them. They used the money to start a small business selling mazut (gasoline) to taxi trucks.
Amazing Stories 2
I’ve also helped one mama start a tobacco selling business. Okay, not the healthiest lifestyle modeling one could do as a volunteer, but you could say I’m modeling how to start up a business from the bottom up. Basically, I buy local tobacco at the market and give it to Kasu. She sells it piece by piece, gives me money to cover the cost of the tobacco and keeps the profit. For every $10 of tobacco, she makes about $5. Next, I worked with her to save it until she had enough to pay for the tobacco herself. And lastly, I took her to the market and showed her how to buy good tobacco. So now all her profit goes to paying school fees for her 5 children. It has been so successful in fact, that 2 other people in the village, using their own money to start, are also re-selling tobacco. Now, Kasu is moving onto selling cigarettes and phone cards the same way.
Using this as a model, I’m also in the process of helping my host brother, Samson, start a kava business. And, next year, after “taem blong spel” (time for resting), I’ve found another mama who wants to start a business making clothes and I’ll help her to buy the clothing material. If the “monkey business” thinking prevails, their might be a lot of people with small businesses here before I leave. (Monkey business: monkey see, monkey do. The language is ni-Vanuatu, not white man, should you be wondering – so don’t go and get all sensitive.)
I’ve also drunk a lot of kastom kava in my kitchen in the last few months. Enough that I decided to spell or rather my body said, “no, you ARE NOT putting that in me” and I had to listen. Too, some oldfalas asked me to accept their direction which was not to drink in my kitchen anymore. Okay, I could see that for kastom kava, because after all, it is kastom, but no kava? Well, when I got back from Australia, I asked my brother what the status of the problem was and he told me, “hemi go lus long bush” (it got lost in the bush). No problem now.
Speaking of going loose in the garden, you might have gathered, I have a garden now. Or did. When I got back, everything I had planted was pretty well finished. It is incredible how quickly things grow here. I planted 5 different kinds of cabbage, lettuce, carrots, beets, tomatoes, beans, peppers, onions and melons. The first time Jacobeth and I went to the garden I had no idea where we were. She and Marta (her auntie and kind of like mother-in-law) decided to hide it so that no one would steal what I grew. That also meant we had to break bush just to get there. I can find it on my own now about 3 different ways, but there is not way I could describe how to get there. It is about 1-1/2 miles from the house, uphill. When we need to carry back food, we weave coconut leaf baskets and use a kind of rope vine to sling the basket on our backs. We usually fill them with manioc, taro, corn, kumala and pumpkin as well as all the other green vegetables. They are heavy!
There have been a lot of kastom ceremonies and between May and September is when most of them occur. Some related to binding a man and women together, getting married, circumcision, first sick moon, first shave and first hair cuts. There were also a few memorials to people who had died and their graves were covered with cement and head stones erected. We had about 2 a week for 4 months. It seemed like the mamas did nothing but weave baskets and mats, and cook. When a mama receives a basket or mat or food, she keeps a record of who she got it from. When that mamas has a kastom ceremony of some kind, the first mama will make enough baskets or mats to return what she received. Some mamas make them even when they don’t need to because they know they’ll need them in the future, so it is a kind of banking ahead.
Using this as a model, I’m also in the process of helping my host brother, Samson, start a kava business. And, next year, after “taem blong spel” (time for resting), I’ve found another mama who wants to start a business making clothes and I’ll help her to buy the clothing material. If the “monkey business” thinking prevails, their might be a lot of people with small businesses here before I leave. (Monkey business: monkey see, monkey do. The language is ni-Vanuatu, not white man, should you be wondering – so don’t go and get all sensitive.)
I’ve also drunk a lot of kastom kava in my kitchen in the last few months. Enough that I decided to spell or rather my body said, “no, you ARE NOT putting that in me” and I had to listen. Too, some oldfalas asked me to accept their direction which was not to drink in my kitchen anymore. Okay, I could see that for kastom kava, because after all, it is kastom, but no kava? Well, when I got back from Australia, I asked my brother what the status of the problem was and he told me, “hemi go lus long bush” (it got lost in the bush). No problem now.
Speaking of going loose in the garden, you might have gathered, I have a garden now. Or did. When I got back, everything I had planted was pretty well finished. It is incredible how quickly things grow here. I planted 5 different kinds of cabbage, lettuce, carrots, beets, tomatoes, beans, peppers, onions and melons. The first time Jacobeth and I went to the garden I had no idea where we were. She and Marta (her auntie and kind of like mother-in-law) decided to hide it so that no one would steal what I grew. That also meant we had to break bush just to get there. I can find it on my own now about 3 different ways, but there is not way I could describe how to get there. It is about 1-1/2 miles from the house, uphill. When we need to carry back food, we weave coconut leaf baskets and use a kind of rope vine to sling the basket on our backs. We usually fill them with manioc, taro, corn, kumala and pumpkin as well as all the other green vegetables. They are heavy!
There have been a lot of kastom ceremonies and between May and September is when most of them occur. Some related to binding a man and women together, getting married, circumcision, first sick moon, first shave and first hair cuts. There were also a few memorials to people who had died and their graves were covered with cement and head stones erected. We had about 2 a week for 4 months. It seemed like the mamas did nothing but weave baskets and mats, and cook. When a mama receives a basket or mat or food, she keeps a record of who she got it from. When that mamas has a kastom ceremony of some kind, the first mama will make enough baskets or mats to return what she received. Some mamas make them even when they don’t need to because they know they’ll need them in the future, so it is a kind of banking ahead.
Amazing Stories 3
This year, 5 boys were circumcised and the ceremony involved 3 families. The boys went to the nakamal at the end of the first school term and were circumcised with a small bamboo knife. Bamboo is incredibly sharp. Ouch! Need I say more? After healing, and in time for the start of the second school term, the boys went back to school. When the families were ready for the ceremony, everyone brought a lot of water tar, yam, mats, baskets, calico (fabric) to the nakamal and made 3 very large piles. Pigs, nannys (goats) and bullock (cows) were carried or led inside the area too. The women dressed up in grass skirts, face paint and chicken feathers. Everyone goes to the nakamal. Then most of the men came from the solwata (salt water) with the boys and they walked around the edge of the nakamal before sitting down. One or two men then used a very large club to hit the pigs over the head and kill them. Sometimes it took 3 or 4 bashes before they were sure it was dead. They did the same for the nannys and then slit the throats of the bullock. The dogs ran around lapping up blood from the ground. Everyone from the families and surrounding villages then walked around to the young boys and their families and shook hands and gave a small gift to the boys, like soap or crackers. Finally, the men hauled the animals off to different houses, mats, baskets and calico were given to grandmothers of the boys and distributed around to other women, and the women started cooking. The rest of the day was spent cooking and talking, then eating and resting. Around 9:00pm the music starts in the nakamal and the women put on kastom dress again. Everyone goes to the nakamal and dances kastom dance all night long, until a little after sunrise the next day.
One mama made me a grass skirt – Kaha Ellen, another painted my face – Nani, and I joined the women both in the morning and for about 3 hours of dancing at night. I then quietly slipped off and went to sleep. I woke around 8:00 and could just hear them finishing as I made tea.
I also went to a first sick moon ceremony. Here, a young girl passage into womenhood is first celebrated by cutting her lower back in a series of inverted Vs with a piece of bamboo or glass. Any young girl who was away at school for her first sick moon and missed having a full ceremony can also be cut at this time. If she is not cut, the bad blood cannot come out and she will have problems with pain and bearing children as she gets older. All of the witnesses are cut too, but on their upper arms, ether in an small line of inverted Vs or in a star shape. I now have a star shaped scar on my arm. After, all of the women from her family go down to the beach. A mixture of grated coconut, some kind of leaf and coconut “hair” is mixed together. Everyone uses it like soap to wash first their cuts and then their entire body. All at once, everyone runs into the water and rinses it off. No amount of bacitracin is as soothing to an open wound at that mixture. It was warm from the sun and felt absolutely divine! When we came ashore, everyone put on dry clothes, the girl was dressed in kastom dress and her face painted. Her aunties were also in kastom dress. Everyone was given some kind of plant stalk and we started walking back to the village. We were joined by 2 of the girl’s uncles. Their job, and ours, was to protect the feathers in her hair from being snatched by any young man because if they were able to take it, then she would have to become his wife. Well, that was what happened in the past, but now that part isn’t followed. As we started to run, we were surrounded by young men with bigger, thicker and harder plant stalks, whipping us to get to the girl. Speaking from experience, when you get wacked with one, it hurts. There are some rules though. They can’t hit you on the head, face or front of your chest. I got so mad from being hit, I used my stalk to hit back. Unfortunately, the only men in site were the girl’s two uncles. When we got back to the village, everyone was laughing from the run and because the two uncles thought it was hilarious I hit them. So, to laughter and lots of talking, more food was prepared and cooked. Later we all ate.
Just a few more notes about life in the village and then I’ll talk a little about work. We’ve had quite a few large yachting groups come through, one with over a 100 people. At times I’ve felt like a tour guide. Lillian and Napua (Nelson) had a new baby girl and named her Lily Eleanor, the second name being my mother’s. Some men came and stole Enid one night and an uncle found her the next day and brought her home. Dawa likes to chew kava for me and Samson, and after taking a group to the volcano at night, stops by to eat whatever I happen to have cooked. Nathan and Noa, 2 volunteers from the other side of the island stopped by one day. They were trying to talk around Tanna in 4-1/2 days. Nathan had a backpack with all of the essentials. Noa arrived at Nate’s place with a taro and his dog. I made a dehydrated chocolate cheesecake I’d been saving for Nate, they slept and in the morning I found Nate had left sometime in the middle of the night to finish his walk. Noa hung around for a day, made friends, drank kava and caught a truck back to his sight the day after. I heard a story about papaya (po po). Some are very sweet and some are just ok. If you feed the skin or parts of a sweet one to the pigs, it will spoil the tree and the rest of the fruit will just be ok.
One mama made me a grass skirt – Kaha Ellen, another painted my face – Nani, and I joined the women both in the morning and for about 3 hours of dancing at night. I then quietly slipped off and went to sleep. I woke around 8:00 and could just hear them finishing as I made tea.
I also went to a first sick moon ceremony. Here, a young girl passage into womenhood is first celebrated by cutting her lower back in a series of inverted Vs with a piece of bamboo or glass. Any young girl who was away at school for her first sick moon and missed having a full ceremony can also be cut at this time. If she is not cut, the bad blood cannot come out and she will have problems with pain and bearing children as she gets older. All of the witnesses are cut too, but on their upper arms, ether in an small line of inverted Vs or in a star shape. I now have a star shaped scar on my arm. After, all of the women from her family go down to the beach. A mixture of grated coconut, some kind of leaf and coconut “hair” is mixed together. Everyone uses it like soap to wash first their cuts and then their entire body. All at once, everyone runs into the water and rinses it off. No amount of bacitracin is as soothing to an open wound at that mixture. It was warm from the sun and felt absolutely divine! When we came ashore, everyone put on dry clothes, the girl was dressed in kastom dress and her face painted. Her aunties were also in kastom dress. Everyone was given some kind of plant stalk and we started walking back to the village. We were joined by 2 of the girl’s uncles. Their job, and ours, was to protect the feathers in her hair from being snatched by any young man because if they were able to take it, then she would have to become his wife. Well, that was what happened in the past, but now that part isn’t followed. As we started to run, we were surrounded by young men with bigger, thicker and harder plant stalks, whipping us to get to the girl. Speaking from experience, when you get wacked with one, it hurts. There are some rules though. They can’t hit you on the head, face or front of your chest. I got so mad from being hit, I used my stalk to hit back. Unfortunately, the only men in site were the girl’s two uncles. When we got back to the village, everyone was laughing from the run and because the two uncles thought it was hilarious I hit them. So, to laughter and lots of talking, more food was prepared and cooked. Later we all ate.
Just a few more notes about life in the village and then I’ll talk a little about work. We’ve had quite a few large yachting groups come through, one with over a 100 people. At times I’ve felt like a tour guide. Lillian and Napua (Nelson) had a new baby girl and named her Lily Eleanor, the second name being my mother’s. Some men came and stole Enid one night and an uncle found her the next day and brought her home. Dawa likes to chew kava for me and Samson, and after taking a group to the volcano at night, stops by to eat whatever I happen to have cooked. Nathan and Noa, 2 volunteers from the other side of the island stopped by one day. They were trying to talk around Tanna in 4-1/2 days. Nathan had a backpack with all of the essentials. Noa arrived at Nate’s place with a taro and his dog. I made a dehydrated chocolate cheesecake I’d been saving for Nate, they slept and in the morning I found Nate had left sometime in the middle of the night to finish his walk. Noa hung around for a day, made friends, drank kava and caught a truck back to his sight the day after. I heard a story about papaya (po po). Some are very sweet and some are just ok. If you feed the skin or parts of a sweet one to the pigs, it will spoil the tree and the rest of the fruit will just be ok.
Amazing Stories 4
Now onto work. This could be another lengthy chapter, but I’ll try to keep it short. Right before gong to Vila in May I had a talk with the village about projects falling down and down reluctance to continue providing funds in areas where this had happened. When I came back, 3 mamas met me at my house and took me to the Mamas Market to show me it was open and operating. It has been running well since then. Their goal with the market revenue is to build a permanent house just for women. So, after things went well for 5 months, I asked them if they really wanted a women’s center. They said yes and told me the kind of building they wanted, what they would use it for and how they would manage it. I wrote a grant application and it looks like it will be approved in early December. The Cultural Center has a strong committee now, but not a lot of community support, so the building and its offerings continue to languish. The equipment for the rechargeable battery project was repaired and it is being used to charge mobile phones. In 10 weeks, they have raised 25,000 vatu (around $250). We also determined the limitations for recharging AA and D batteries – it wasn’t sized incorrectly and doesn’t have a large enough solar panel – and they plan on using the revenue to buy upgrade the system in about 6 more months. We’re still waiting on the supplier to bring the windmill, but a committee was organized and it is beginning to define a constitution and bylaws. And finally, I did a used battery cleanup project, making a contest for the children to see who could find the most batteries. They got one piece of candy for every 5 batteries. In one week, I had over 1,500 batteries laying around the house and ran out of lollies (candy) 3 times! I also approached the builder of a new bungalow about encasing the batteries in the cement floors and walls of the new bungalows he was constructing to protect the environment. So, the boy with the most batteries won an expanding egg that after being placed in water grows into a lizard. His family was a little concerned it would grow a real lizard, gecko, because people here are afraid of them, but I told them it was just rubber. Later they came back and asked me how big it would grow. I thought it was going to be about a foot long, but when it finished, it was over 3 feet big! Now, everyone wants one or something like it. Great fun!
And lastly, after my refreshing break in Australia, I’m having a lot of fun most days. My relationships with people are growing stronger. I still get very angry inside about how women are viewed and treated here and yet I’m developing a big sister friendship with some of the young men that is teaching me more about what they really think and how kastom strongly limits their freedom to act as they want in some matters, and teaching them (I hope) women can be part of their team and not just objects. Big hope, somewhat naive perhaps, but hey, that’s me sometimes. Things now are less about people taking my advice or doing what I say and more about how they find their own way with new knowledge and me learning how something new and different and really good can come out of the synergy of different ways/views/ideas/beliefs. And, losing the arrogance of believing that my way or the American/Western way is the best way for all people. Now I know what they mean when they say a volunteer gets more out of the experience than they put into it. None of us want that, but it is what happens.
And lastly, after my refreshing break in Australia, I’m having a lot of fun most days. My relationships with people are growing stronger. I still get very angry inside about how women are viewed and treated here and yet I’m developing a big sister friendship with some of the young men that is teaching me more about what they really think and how kastom strongly limits their freedom to act as they want in some matters, and teaching them (I hope) women can be part of their team and not just objects. Big hope, somewhat naive perhaps, but hey, that’s me sometimes. Things now are less about people taking my advice or doing what I say and more about how they find their own way with new knowledge and me learning how something new and different and really good can come out of the synergy of different ways/views/ideas/beliefs. And, losing the arrogance of believing that my way or the American/Western way is the best way for all people. Now I know what they mean when they say a volunteer gets more out of the experience than they put into it. None of us want that, but it is what happens.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
