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?
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