11.20.07
I’m on the verge of a complete melt down. Today I shouted at a trainee as she walked through a session that was going on. She was the third one to do so and it was totally inappropriate for her and the others. I truly believe that the young people in this training group are some of the rudest people I have ever met but I was wrong to have yelled. The truth is I’m in very bad mental shape. I really want to stay in Vanuatu and the Peace Corps but I am losing a battle with my fear of failure, fear of isolation, lack of quality sleep and lack of intimacy. I don’t see how I can get any of that on Epi. The place is just too remote, has such a lack of hygiene and I will have no one to relate to. I have a strong desire to stay here in Mangaliliu and pick up for a volunteer that was medically separated this week. The project here is one that I have keen interest in. It is working on the World Heritage classification for the site of Chief Roi Mata who some four hundred years ago lived, died and was buried all in this area. He is credited with creating the totem system of clan marriage for Vanuatu and a great peace maker. Any if I can talk the country director into giving me the opportunity it will have several distinct advantages. One I have a very good relationship with my host family who are very prominent and with the chief already. I have a positive reputation in the village, it is a job I can do and would like to do and it is just a thirty to forty minute ride into Vila. While I’m not overly taken with Vila at least it offers a semblance of civilization which means perhaps meeting a woman to be close to and a individuals to have a good level of intellectual stimulation with.
If I don’t get the chance I may not stay. I have been battling health issues. I am on the mend but have had all at once pink eye, three infections on my legs and a rather nasty scrap on my leg from slipping while trying to help push a truck. I may well have hurt my chances because my out burst was witnessed by the head of the training staff. I did have a discussion earlier with the PCMO (medical officer) and told her my problems.
I am just not dealing with this very well. I may find myself in the US shortly.
11/24/07
This is a day when my systems are not altogether is an agreement. The conflict is over staying in Vanuatu and doing the job and the growth I have longed to do for sometime. That is the desire of my heart. I feel that I can do so much and grow but my mind and body are telling me to go home.
Thanksgiving night the trainees had planned for a feast to share our holiday with our family but unfortunately an old man (a former chief from the island across from us) died. So the wailing started and the plans had to be adjusted. We had our dinner in the office. Everyone created wonderful dishes. It was fairly typical. Lots of food devoured fairly quickly and then TV, in this case a DVD of Charlie Brown’s Christmas. The twenty-somethings dominate the atmosphere of the group. I stayed and watched but then more juvenile crap was proposed. I headed home. I read for a short while and then went to sleep. At about 11PM I awoke shriving uncontrollably. Struggled out of bed to put on some clothes. That didn’t help. After fifteen minutes of that I struggled next to my family’s house and asked for some help. They went and got one of the trainers and they drove up to the office. While sat in the back seat with my mama rubbing chest they called the PC nurse Jane. I was taken back to my hut given Tylenol and told to change to a lighter shirt and stay in bed except for toilet privilege. The shriving subsided but the fever was high. I had fitful sleep throughout the night. In the morning I was visited and checked by Christina (head of training) she then called Jane again and I was put on antibiotics because my left leg is hot, red and swollen. This is a result of some small scratch, or puncture that I got while on a hike through the bush about ten days ago. I thought I had taken care of it but obviously not. So in the last week I’ve had pink eye, three infections in my legs, one which has returned and now has spread up my leg and of course a slip which resulted in a huge scrap on my leg. So my body wants out of here.
What about my mind? Well I found the site that I was to be sent to totally unlivable. I have said this all before. People old, hygiene intolerable, sleep close to impossible, facilities abandoned and my supposed home in total disrepair. I had a talk with the country director on Wednesday. I told him I wanted to stay in Vanuatu but I could go back to Epi. He agreed and proposed the island across from there, Paama. I was enthused despite the fact that my first desire to replace a volunteer here at Mangaliliu was rejected. The day before I had yelled at several trainees after a third one had just walked right through a training session several of us were in. The juvenile behavior exhibited by most of these people irritates me. I am on edge a great deal by it. While I understand a certain level revelry there are too many instances of rudeness and disrespect. I know to that they are under the same pressures as me but please. When I am frustrated and have no other outlet I get cranky and occasionally snap. It is good but it is me. And so here I am in a bad state of mind. My mind tells go home. It isn’t going to get any better. There must be something else you can do to satisfy your needs.
Friday morning I struggled to the public phone so I could call Keri and Kevin on their Thanksgiving. I was weak and sick. In just a few minutes I could say so little. I had had thoughts that it might be the last I would ever speak to them again.
I had some care given be by my family and one volunteer Jacki who is 72 and is embarking on her second tour with the Peace Corps. Yet here I am sitting in the Peace Corps office having just spoken with Jane, the nurse and said just get me a ticket home.
11.26.07
It's Monday here in Vanuatu. On Thursday night I awoke with uncontrollable shivers. I tried to stop them by putting on clothes, but after 15 min I had to stumble to the host family's house and ask for help. I was driven up to the Peace Corps office. A call was made to the medical officer, an Australian nurse, she told them to get my clothes off and give me Tylenol and put me to bed. It took nearly a day to break the fever. It was caused by an infection in my leg. Another day later my left leg is very red, swollen and very sore. I called this morning and made a choice that despite my heart and desire, my body and mind are telling me to come home and do something different. So now I am in a hotel in Vila, have a triple cocktail of antibiotics (including one in the butt-2 times a day). I have TV, room service, AC, hot shower, phone and internet. I'm on bed rest for a few days until the infection comes down. Then they'll send me back to the US on the first available flight.
I'm sad but at a place of resolve.
The nurse told me I probably be her for a week. That’s until Sunday and then I’ll fly home via Auckland NZ or Fiji. I’m practically confined to my bed except for the bathroom and I went down stairs for breakfast but have room service otherwise. It ain’t terrible, I have a bit of cable TV, slow net access, AC, hot shower and room service w/ a small frig full of drinks. Alcohol is verboten on the heavy antibiotic cocktail I’m on. One more shot in the butt tonight but I’ll be taking them for a while. The flight will be a 24 hr ordeal. So although my leg will be swollen and red and I’ll have pressure stocking on I should be able to get back OK. I may try to cash in my ticket in NZ or Fiji and an extra bit to stay for a couple of days. Not sure if that will work or not. I’m here. Might as well see some place else.
I’m OK mentally not except I’m ready to move on. The entire training came into town to see me yesterday. I had left the training village in the morning when they were all over on a small island. It was very nice. Several remarked how good I looked now despite my leg. I have the world of doubt fear and concern off my shoulders.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
To Epi and back
11.2.07
It’s Saturday morning. I’ve been awake since 5 AM. Heard singing and guitar playing it seemed all night. There is a big fundraiser and talent show for the community today. Unfortunately I’ll miss it as I leave for my one week wokabaot to Epi at 11 AM. I love Mangaliliu but I’m tires of training. Tired of most of the other trainees too. That in itself is a reoccurring theme. Most of them are so immature and seem to never have done a real days work in their lives. I count no more than six or seven that I would trust my life too. I only hope that they will grow from their approaching experience. Perhaps I am too hard in my expectations. But I have seen too many of them sleep through the most important trainings. Health and safety in particular. I know they too desire to get on with it.
On Wednesday in Vila the RTC trainees visited the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry’s nursery. Very important in that forestry for timber (especially sandalwood) has a real future I for the Ni Van’s. They can receive seedlings for free and are given instruction for planting. The problem will be getting them to see that it is a long range project. Seven, ten, fifteen years. Why do that when they can plant kava and in two to three years have vatu (money).
After the nursery we went to the Kava Store. It is more than just a store. It is a processing plant for more than just kava. Its run by Charlie Longbau, a Tonkinese (Vietnamese) who gave an excellent talk on the value of processing, packaging and export of local resources. This includes a nut tree that from which the fruit could be used for feed stock, the shell for particles board and the nut for both eating as well as medicinal purposes. It’s apparently an excellent joint lubricant and thus good for arthritis.
Thursday was the day after Halloween and the trainees created a celebration for the children of Mangaliliu. Face painting (which I did), carved pumpkins (also did one), a shark piñata which was wildly popular and of course candy for trick or treating. I stationed myself on the end of a bench under the big community mango. I had natural mango candy from the Kava Store. Suddenly I had about twenty hands thrust at me. I was in a crush. It felt like the first time I was Santa Claus at Lum School and the children rushed at me. I know how a rock star must feel as fans try to get a piece of them. I controlled the children. Told them “wan nomo”, one only. I also made any effort to teach them to say, “trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something’s good to eat”. Some got it too. At the end of the event when darkness had fallen I noticed an array of candy wrappers on the ground. I asked the children to pick them up and put them in a plastic bag I held. They willing did so with great enthusiasm and the next morning the area was very clean. These are the most beautiful people.
Yesterday afternoon I went for a short swim in the ocean (where else). When I returned a big meeting was taking place. The Minister of Lands and some ex-pats who are trying for their big land grab had come with a live pig in the back of a pickup and some other trinkets. A shallow effort at “kastom”. I was sitting in front of my hut when the chief and his wife walked by. I said hello and the next thing I knew I was involved in a two hour toktok with him. He drank kava and we philosophized about land, people and greed. He had walked out of the meeting. It forced a delay and the Minister of Land left. The delay affords the opportunity to have an attorney look over a twenty six point memorandum of understanding. Some of the villagers just want the quick money for a seventy-five year lease. They aren’t looking to the long range effects this will have on their community. They don’t understand that once a gated community or a resort is put in next door to them, those people will not want chickens, dogs and pigs running loose with their accompanying noise and the burning of bush and trash. This community will be moved right on out with the gentrification. Land is real. The people need only walk outside and gather food. Almost everything they need is right here. They practice “appropriate technology”. They pay no mortgages, no taxes on their land, no income tax, no sales tax. If they give up their land they and their children and their children’s children will be renting in slums, paying for rice, sugar and tin meat. They need education so they can understand the motive of others, the outcomes of their actions and can determine their own future. In other words, critical thinking skills.
11.4.07
Sunday afternoon on Epi. I am sitting at the beach of Moriu village. It is home to something around one hundred and sixty people from three tribes. The Mapuna, Ren and Kunaria. I just took a short walk south along the road. “The Road”. The only road around the island. I went as far as a recent mud slide. I had an escort of two boys (they had been told to follow me). One is Moses, the twelve year old son of the brother of the chief. The chief is my host. His name is Paramasul and I am to call him Pururvi (brother in the local language). His brother is Phillip Martin. After church where I was introduced, given a mat, and shook hands with everyone I was invited to the nakamal to meet and eat with several men including the Elder Joshua who had come to lead the day’s sermon. Joshua questions me about the PCV killed on Erromango. We carried on for sometimes. It turns out he is an old school chum of Chief Mormor from Mangaliliu. I told him of the recent storian I had with Chief MorMor and land doings. More storian. I talked about my family, California (drew a very large map on the ground), solar and wind power and more. A few of the other men asked questions but it was primarily Joshua and me.
Arrival here yesterday was a shock. For the first time I wasn’t quite sure about my coming to Vanuatu. They flight from Vila to Epi was over several islands and included one stop on Ambrym. The crew of the eighteen passenger Twin Otter was Aussie or Kiwi and they gave the shortest preflight instructions possible. “We’re taking off, read the card”. The flight was fine. It was great to look down and see the islands and see the road to Mangaliliu. There are three trainees flying along with one woman PCV all ready living there. We are met by another woman PCV that has also been on the island for four months and an Aussie volunteer. Then I’m approached by the chairman of the RTC where I am to be sited. His name is Andrew and he has a truck waiting for us. The five Peace Corps personnel climb into the back of the pickup with our cargo. First we drop off one off Evelyn (a trainee from our group) and the volunteer who lives closest to her in Laamen Bay. Then we head on down the roughest road you can imagine. Really its two deep wheel ruts that are constantly breaking up. We pick up three young Ni-Van men. We dropped one off at a medical complex with a package that may have been medical supplies. We drive through the jungle. down steep inclines and finally past the RTC campus. Total driving time with two stops maybe thirty minutes. So far so good.
The third stop was my final destination. The pickup pulled along side a rock wall and I stepped down from the truck and was immediately great by a bearded white haired man with a quite strange look in his eyes. He emitted high pitched words and twitched a bit. I was taken aback. Then I was introduced by Andrew to the chief. He is a man of fifty-nine but looks ten years older. The building was of local construction. Bamboo mat walls and thatch roofs of coconut leaves. They were not in the best of repair. Then I saw four Chihuahuas from Auschwitz. Actually puppies but horribly skinny. Then I saw the chief’s mother came walking with two canes and on the ankle of one of her feet. I thought she was perhaps the witch from Hansel and Gretel. So I have one looney, an aged chief, four emaciated puppies and a grandma straight from Grimm’s fairy tales. “Well Dale you aren’t in Kansas any more”.
The family gathered around, I was introduced by Andrew, the chief welcomed me, and I thanked him and gave him a small gift (a box of crackers, a deck of playing cards and a pen). I was treated to rice and fish. It was in a dish covered by a filthy looking towel. I had to eat some and I almost lost my stomach. After I told some things about myself I asked for a tour. The shower is a bucket of water inside a building of sorts with a filthy piece of calico for a curtain. The toilet is forty yards up a hill through some one else’s yard and I will be reliving myself over a hole in the ground. The chief and Andrew showed me of the village and although he is one of the three chiefs I think he has the worst kept home in the village. Apparently most of his property is not in the village and he has donated the RTC and a Bible school next door. Truth be told he and the family are wonderful people. I think apart from the looks of things I was tired from my very early awakening yesterday. So to cut to the chase I’m going to stay and I’ll be fine. But I’m not through with my torture yet. Pururvi/Paramasul built me a quite nice small hut. I mean the architecture is superb. There is a big raised bed, but until I awoke for the fourth time this morning at 4:30 I hadn’t realized the mattress was less than an inch thick and the raised bed was an old cargo box with slats and sand. No wonder I couldn’t find a flat spot. The chickens crowed and the dogs barked all night long. It was light so I dressed and went to the beach to watch the sunrise. It was spectacular but I had to wait for over half an hour. I wondered to myself. “Am I up to this?” I looked across at Paama island and watched clouds cross its top. I saw the bottom of Lopevi. It is the active volcano just seven or so miles away. I never saw the top of it because of the clouds. Now I do and it is constantly smoking from its side peak. Can’t wait to see a clear day and some redness and fire.
11/7/07
It’s Thursday morning and I have been on a roller coaster of emotions for four days. Sleep or lack there of and food edibility have had much to do with the ups and downs. Yesterday I took an hour and fifteen minute trek to the next village of Nikaura. There was a big meeting of men involved with the churches from along the northeast side of Epi. I went along with Phillip Martin my NiVan counterpart. It was an opportunity to visit with Jade the trainee from my group in Nikaura. It was a chance to speak English to someone I know and vent my frustrations and fears. Jade has another PCV jest a few minutes south and has seen her everyday and has had some opportunity to commiserate with some else. I spoke of my fears of failure. Of perhaps not being able to stay here and do the work I so want to do. How I find the food inedible and a full nights sleep impossible. She understood, although she praised the Mama she is staying with's cooking. I was invited for lunch. Wow is she lucky. Delicious crab, fresh sliced cucumber and fresh squeezed lime juice. I small talked with her mama. She has a sister in Mangaliliu that I have met. More talk with Jade and then she was feeling ill in the tummy. I left her at her school and walked back near the middle of village and sat on a canoe, as I am now, and watched the tide come in. Soon there I was joined by five young children. Smiling, curious, wanting my attention. They brought me shells, told me their names, played with my hair. Two left and the remaining three counted to one hundred, said their ABCs, months and the days. Three older boys came along and I asked them to do a play for me. They drew in the sand a large rectangle with lines through it and proceeded to play a tag game. Then I was joined by three young men. One named Graham was very talkative. He asked a load of questions. For the next three hours he was my guide. He introduced me to everyone. Everyone had to hear my three types of whistle. He showed me two dysfunctional solar systems and one generator. Showed me the nakamal. The largest on Epi. It was about twenty meters long with a center beam that ran the full length. Graham bragged how it was built all by man power. He taught me a local expression. Caucasoid (from capsized) meaning over flowing but used like #1. Everything became capcapsaed. I think he was pulling my leg as he was having some fun with me. We mimicked some expressions from each other. I was shown the community bulletin board. Later I was given the opportunity to frighten several same children just by my white faced presence. At one point I was surrounded by at least a dozen young men. Graham spoke for them and there was both laughter and some serious conversation. At one point after being asked about my two predecessors, I told them quite frankly that while I am a fun fellow, I was here to work and I wanted to be compared to no one. Judge me for myself. I am quite tired of hearing the names Mike (who went on to be the country manager in Kiribati) and Phillip has left me with a school with no students primarily because he had personality problems. Before I left Nikaura I was invited to have a shell of kava with a chief. This village has six tribes and seven chiefs. So out of respect I had the one shell. I hate the stuff. I was having to wait for Phillip Martin to finish imbibing. Finally a little after 4 PM we started waking home. It was warm, humid and the kava made me sweat profusely. We talked a bit. Me asking questions. We caught up to some school children. You must say hello and shake hands with everyone. When we got to their village Nikenuwe we followed them in and met more people. How many hands I shook I can only guess. During the day maybe a hundred or more. Finally we got back home. Phillip Martin’s wife had made me a supper. It was a plate wrapped in a towel, hanging from the rafter of the awning outside my hut. After sitting a while and cooling down, I went and took a swim (a bath or shower) with a bucket and cup. It felt great to be clean if only for a few minutes, for it was time to apply mosquito repellent all over my legs, arms, neck and face. In other words any place exposed. The meal that Raa Raa had prepared was quite good. The day before I had a conversation with her about a stomach ailment which I had feigned the night before because I just couldn’t eat anymore Laplap. I hate the stuff. I had told her how I liked green vegetables like capsicum (bell peppers) and pumpkin tops. So there was stuffed capsicum and pumpkin tops with perhaps some canned tuna and also fried bananas. It was wonderful to have been heard. I ate most of it. The NiVan eat copious amounts of food. It’s amazing they aren’t all three hundred pounds. Even food I like I can’t finish the amount they put on my plate. So I was full and then everyone else in the family came to eat. What else, Laplap. Laplap is a gluttonous mash of either manioc, yam, taro or banana. It is wrapped in large leaves. Sometime meat is inserted. Then cooked under hot rocks for several hours. They piles of it. The only time I enjoyed it was one in Mangaliliu of banana and clams. The area where the two flavors mixed was quite good. When everyone sat down to eat I was offered a plate. I couldn’t touch the stuff. I had to decline. Hopefully if I continue to not eat it they will get the message.
I have just come back from a tour of the RTC with Andrew the chairman of the RTC. It was excellent. Andrew is an elder and lives right behind the chief. We looked at the whole complex. While there is much work to do to rebuild a student body and my living quarters need a full renovation, I walked a way with high hopes. We talked for quite a while. It was open communication. I explained my needs regarding living alone. He assured me that work will be done by the time I return. I believe him. He seems sincere. He wants good things for the community and the students. We discussed schedules, potential classes, and the purpose for students to learn skills they can take to their villages where they can make a contribution. Maybe be the local electrician, plumber or mechanic. Thus they serve the community and have a strong sense of self worth. We talked about communications. My need to be seen for myself. He agreed. He understands I have a need to for some time to myself. Need some “white man” time. He said he would pass on that need to my host family. I asked him what he wanted from me. He said open communication and that he felt we had already started it. I agreed. We discussed work ethic. “Black man” style. I too believe in hard work interspersed with laughter, singing, whistling and stories. I told him that’s my way too. Well most of the time. Ala in all it was both productive and reassuring. While I have felt at times that this wasn’t for me I am feeling much brighter now.
11.14.07
Have just returned to Mangaliliu for the second time this week. Came back on Saturday after my week wokabaot on Epi (eventual site) and today from a village on north Efate (this same island) called Paunangisu. All of the RTC trainees went for two days and nights to this village to get training in agriculture. Not some I expect to teach, but certainly need strong awareness as I will have to create and grow my own garden. The PCVs that hosted us are a married couple and are leaving tomorrow morning for six weeks in the states and Jamaica. We stayed next door to there house on the grounds of the health clinic. They have been here for a year and a half and have a very nice two bedroom home. The grounds and the community are quite manicured. It could easily have been in Hawaii, Florida or the Carolina islands. They are looking to extend but they want are rougher more rural setting. Epi is probably just what they are looking for.
So I returned to Vila on Saturday afternoon from Epi. I will be returning in about four weeks. I had a hell of an adventure getting home too. I was up at my regular fiveish and packed for the trip back. It was arranged for the truck to come from picking up the other trainee (Jade) from farther down the road some where after 8 AM. So 8 comes, no truck. OK. 9 comes, no truck. I go sit across the road for some cooler sea breeze. 9:30 comes and so does the rain. So I move my things and myself back up under the tin roof. 9:45 comes and so does Jade and Kristen but no truck. It’s broken. So we load up and start walking to Laamen Bay (the airport is there). Along comes a truck from the other direction and arrangements are made for it to come back and pick us up after it unloads at Jade’s village. So we sit down at the RTC and wait. One hour. Another half hour. We better start walking. It should take an hour and half or so, including the hills. It starts raining again. So with packs, and other goods and the rain we start the trek. First there is a very steep hill. The road is two wheel ruts and the clay surface is slick from the rain. It’s slow going. It takes longer than expected. Somewhere along the way Kristen a veteran of four months says that some times planes arrive early and so take off just as early. At the hospital we take a water break. It’s close to 12:30, we are forty minutes away and our flight is scheduled for 1:40PM. We start walking. We arrive at the airport, a single building, not five minutes before the plane arrives. Wew!!!! I am drenched. This is an eighteen passenger Twin Otter. Once you get in the air you get cool air. Just big jets. But on this plane you can’t turn it off, just away. I’m cold and tired. My only saving grace is the British couple sitting across from me. The beautiful young redhead was actually born in Villa in her parents fourth year living here. She is very interested in the idea of the Peace Corps. She has already met the other trainee in our group who was staying in Laamen. We take off and make at stop and pick up a French couple who had flown up of Villa with us a week earlier. They nod hello. We are back in the air. Finally we arrive in Vila. I have needed to pee for over and hour. I go into the restroom and relieve myself. I look in the mirror and almost don’t recognize myself. I have easily lost fifteen pounds. All my clothes are hanging off me. It could be twenty. My face is lean and tanned. My goatee is white and I stare into the mirror. Glad the weight is gone. I know I’ll lose more too. That’s great but wow. Who am I? When I come out a New Zealander man is awaiting me. He is Robert Early a fairly famous Bible translator. I have been sent home with some of that wonderful Laplap for him. After a few minutes of pleasantries he leaves. Now the three of us decide we should take a bus to the Peace Corps office in Vila. We share it with the British couple. We are hungry, tired and just want to relax. Well it’s after 3PM on Saturday. Everything is closed. No restaurants open for Saturday evening and Sunday. Only place to get food is at the big grocery, Au Bon Marche. I want a beer too. No alcohol sold after noon on Saturday. I’m dying here. Somebody throw me a life preserver. I go to check email and internet at the office. No time truck to Mangaliliu is ready to go. So into the truck, but it stops at a bar where several other trainees are quenching their thirst and decompressing. Then we take them back to the office to get their bags. Gee I could have stayed and done a bit on the net. Nothing is working out my way. Oh well at least I’m heading back to home. Mangaliliu is a welcome site. Everyone is so happy to see us. We are thrilled to see them. Tell my story to the family and then settle in. After dinner and more time sharing, I head down to the beach area to meet some other trainees and share stories and decompress. Sunday after a very long and boring serve we all go to the beach at Mangess. More stories and decompressing. There are a few of group that we may lose. Back home to the family. Dinner and bed. Oh it is so nice to be on a smooth bed. After five weeks the bed here is comfortable. I doubt if I will ever find comfort on the bed at Moriu. So home sweet home. But wait after breakfast I am informed that the RTC trainees will be heading out for two days late in the afternoon. Truth is this training is getting more like boot camp all the time. Well in just about a month I will have a new home for the next two years. Epi here I come.
It’s Saturday morning. I’ve been awake since 5 AM. Heard singing and guitar playing it seemed all night. There is a big fundraiser and talent show for the community today. Unfortunately I’ll miss it as I leave for my one week wokabaot to Epi at 11 AM. I love Mangaliliu but I’m tires of training. Tired of most of the other trainees too. That in itself is a reoccurring theme. Most of them are so immature and seem to never have done a real days work in their lives. I count no more than six or seven that I would trust my life too. I only hope that they will grow from their approaching experience. Perhaps I am too hard in my expectations. But I have seen too many of them sleep through the most important trainings. Health and safety in particular. I know they too desire to get on with it.
On Wednesday in Vila the RTC trainees visited the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry’s nursery. Very important in that forestry for timber (especially sandalwood) has a real future I for the Ni Van’s. They can receive seedlings for free and are given instruction for planting. The problem will be getting them to see that it is a long range project. Seven, ten, fifteen years. Why do that when they can plant kava and in two to three years have vatu (money).
After the nursery we went to the Kava Store. It is more than just a store. It is a processing plant for more than just kava. Its run by Charlie Longbau, a Tonkinese (Vietnamese) who gave an excellent talk on the value of processing, packaging and export of local resources. This includes a nut tree that from which the fruit could be used for feed stock, the shell for particles board and the nut for both eating as well as medicinal purposes. It’s apparently an excellent joint lubricant and thus good for arthritis.
Thursday was the day after Halloween and the trainees created a celebration for the children of Mangaliliu. Face painting (which I did), carved pumpkins (also did one), a shark piñata which was wildly popular and of course candy for trick or treating. I stationed myself on the end of a bench under the big community mango. I had natural mango candy from the Kava Store. Suddenly I had about twenty hands thrust at me. I was in a crush. It felt like the first time I was Santa Claus at Lum School and the children rushed at me. I know how a rock star must feel as fans try to get a piece of them. I controlled the children. Told them “wan nomo”, one only. I also made any effort to teach them to say, “trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something’s good to eat”. Some got it too. At the end of the event when darkness had fallen I noticed an array of candy wrappers on the ground. I asked the children to pick them up and put them in a plastic bag I held. They willing did so with great enthusiasm and the next morning the area was very clean. These are the most beautiful people.
Yesterday afternoon I went for a short swim in the ocean (where else). When I returned a big meeting was taking place. The Minister of Lands and some ex-pats who are trying for their big land grab had come with a live pig in the back of a pickup and some other trinkets. A shallow effort at “kastom”. I was sitting in front of my hut when the chief and his wife walked by. I said hello and the next thing I knew I was involved in a two hour toktok with him. He drank kava and we philosophized about land, people and greed. He had walked out of the meeting. It forced a delay and the Minister of Land left. The delay affords the opportunity to have an attorney look over a twenty six point memorandum of understanding. Some of the villagers just want the quick money for a seventy-five year lease. They aren’t looking to the long range effects this will have on their community. They don’t understand that once a gated community or a resort is put in next door to them, those people will not want chickens, dogs and pigs running loose with their accompanying noise and the burning of bush and trash. This community will be moved right on out with the gentrification. Land is real. The people need only walk outside and gather food. Almost everything they need is right here. They practice “appropriate technology”. They pay no mortgages, no taxes on their land, no income tax, no sales tax. If they give up their land they and their children and their children’s children will be renting in slums, paying for rice, sugar and tin meat. They need education so they can understand the motive of others, the outcomes of their actions and can determine their own future. In other words, critical thinking skills.
11.4.07
Sunday afternoon on Epi. I am sitting at the beach of Moriu village. It is home to something around one hundred and sixty people from three tribes. The Mapuna, Ren and Kunaria. I just took a short walk south along the road. “The Road”. The only road around the island. I went as far as a recent mud slide. I had an escort of two boys (they had been told to follow me). One is Moses, the twelve year old son of the brother of the chief. The chief is my host. His name is Paramasul and I am to call him Pururvi (brother in the local language). His brother is Phillip Martin. After church where I was introduced, given a mat, and shook hands with everyone I was invited to the nakamal to meet and eat with several men including the Elder Joshua who had come to lead the day’s sermon. Joshua questions me about the PCV killed on Erromango. We carried on for sometimes. It turns out he is an old school chum of Chief Mormor from Mangaliliu. I told him of the recent storian I had with Chief MorMor and land doings. More storian. I talked about my family, California (drew a very large map on the ground), solar and wind power and more. A few of the other men asked questions but it was primarily Joshua and me.
Arrival here yesterday was a shock. For the first time I wasn’t quite sure about my coming to Vanuatu. They flight from Vila to Epi was over several islands and included one stop on Ambrym. The crew of the eighteen passenger Twin Otter was Aussie or Kiwi and they gave the shortest preflight instructions possible. “We’re taking off, read the card”. The flight was fine. It was great to look down and see the islands and see the road to Mangaliliu. There are three trainees flying along with one woman PCV all ready living there. We are met by another woman PCV that has also been on the island for four months and an Aussie volunteer. Then I’m approached by the chairman of the RTC where I am to be sited. His name is Andrew and he has a truck waiting for us. The five Peace Corps personnel climb into the back of the pickup with our cargo. First we drop off one off Evelyn (a trainee from our group) and the volunteer who lives closest to her in Laamen Bay. Then we head on down the roughest road you can imagine. Really its two deep wheel ruts that are constantly breaking up. We pick up three young Ni-Van men. We dropped one off at a medical complex with a package that may have been medical supplies. We drive through the jungle. down steep inclines and finally past the RTC campus. Total driving time with two stops maybe thirty minutes. So far so good.
The third stop was my final destination. The pickup pulled along side a rock wall and I stepped down from the truck and was immediately great by a bearded white haired man with a quite strange look in his eyes. He emitted high pitched words and twitched a bit. I was taken aback. Then I was introduced by Andrew to the chief. He is a man of fifty-nine but looks ten years older. The building was of local construction. Bamboo mat walls and thatch roofs of coconut leaves. They were not in the best of repair. Then I saw four Chihuahuas from Auschwitz. Actually puppies but horribly skinny. Then I saw the chief’s mother came walking with two canes and on the ankle of one of her feet. I thought she was perhaps the witch from Hansel and Gretel. So I have one looney, an aged chief, four emaciated puppies and a grandma straight from Grimm’s fairy tales. “Well Dale you aren’t in Kansas any more”.
The family gathered around, I was introduced by Andrew, the chief welcomed me, and I thanked him and gave him a small gift (a box of crackers, a deck of playing cards and a pen). I was treated to rice and fish. It was in a dish covered by a filthy looking towel. I had to eat some and I almost lost my stomach. After I told some things about myself I asked for a tour. The shower is a bucket of water inside a building of sorts with a filthy piece of calico for a curtain. The toilet is forty yards up a hill through some one else’s yard and I will be reliving myself over a hole in the ground. The chief and Andrew showed me of the village and although he is one of the three chiefs I think he has the worst kept home in the village. Apparently most of his property is not in the village and he has donated the RTC and a Bible school next door. Truth be told he and the family are wonderful people. I think apart from the looks of things I was tired from my very early awakening yesterday. So to cut to the chase I’m going to stay and I’ll be fine. But I’m not through with my torture yet. Pururvi/Paramasul built me a quite nice small hut. I mean the architecture is superb. There is a big raised bed, but until I awoke for the fourth time this morning at 4:30 I hadn’t realized the mattress was less than an inch thick and the raised bed was an old cargo box with slats and sand. No wonder I couldn’t find a flat spot. The chickens crowed and the dogs barked all night long. It was light so I dressed and went to the beach to watch the sunrise. It was spectacular but I had to wait for over half an hour. I wondered to myself. “Am I up to this?” I looked across at Paama island and watched clouds cross its top. I saw the bottom of Lopevi. It is the active volcano just seven or so miles away. I never saw the top of it because of the clouds. Now I do and it is constantly smoking from its side peak. Can’t wait to see a clear day and some redness and fire.
11/7/07
It’s Thursday morning and I have been on a roller coaster of emotions for four days. Sleep or lack there of and food edibility have had much to do with the ups and downs. Yesterday I took an hour and fifteen minute trek to the next village of Nikaura. There was a big meeting of men involved with the churches from along the northeast side of Epi. I went along with Phillip Martin my NiVan counterpart. It was an opportunity to visit with Jade the trainee from my group in Nikaura. It was a chance to speak English to someone I know and vent my frustrations and fears. Jade has another PCV jest a few minutes south and has seen her everyday and has had some opportunity to commiserate with some else. I spoke of my fears of failure. Of perhaps not being able to stay here and do the work I so want to do. How I find the food inedible and a full nights sleep impossible. She understood, although she praised the Mama she is staying with's cooking. I was invited for lunch. Wow is she lucky. Delicious crab, fresh sliced cucumber and fresh squeezed lime juice. I small talked with her mama. She has a sister in Mangaliliu that I have met. More talk with Jade and then she was feeling ill in the tummy. I left her at her school and walked back near the middle of village and sat on a canoe, as I am now, and watched the tide come in. Soon there I was joined by five young children. Smiling, curious, wanting my attention. They brought me shells, told me their names, played with my hair. Two left and the remaining three counted to one hundred, said their ABCs, months and the days. Three older boys came along and I asked them to do a play for me. They drew in the sand a large rectangle with lines through it and proceeded to play a tag game. Then I was joined by three young men. One named Graham was very talkative. He asked a load of questions. For the next three hours he was my guide. He introduced me to everyone. Everyone had to hear my three types of whistle. He showed me two dysfunctional solar systems and one generator. Showed me the nakamal. The largest on Epi. It was about twenty meters long with a center beam that ran the full length. Graham bragged how it was built all by man power. He taught me a local expression. Caucasoid (from capsized) meaning over flowing but used like #1. Everything became capcapsaed. I think he was pulling my leg as he was having some fun with me. We mimicked some expressions from each other. I was shown the community bulletin board. Later I was given the opportunity to frighten several same children just by my white faced presence. At one point I was surrounded by at least a dozen young men. Graham spoke for them and there was both laughter and some serious conversation. At one point after being asked about my two predecessors, I told them quite frankly that while I am a fun fellow, I was here to work and I wanted to be compared to no one. Judge me for myself. I am quite tired of hearing the names Mike (who went on to be the country manager in Kiribati) and Phillip has left me with a school with no students primarily because he had personality problems. Before I left Nikaura I was invited to have a shell of kava with a chief. This village has six tribes and seven chiefs. So out of respect I had the one shell. I hate the stuff. I was having to wait for Phillip Martin to finish imbibing. Finally a little after 4 PM we started waking home. It was warm, humid and the kava made me sweat profusely. We talked a bit. Me asking questions. We caught up to some school children. You must say hello and shake hands with everyone. When we got to their village Nikenuwe we followed them in and met more people. How many hands I shook I can only guess. During the day maybe a hundred or more. Finally we got back home. Phillip Martin’s wife had made me a supper. It was a plate wrapped in a towel, hanging from the rafter of the awning outside my hut. After sitting a while and cooling down, I went and took a swim (a bath or shower) with a bucket and cup. It felt great to be clean if only for a few minutes, for it was time to apply mosquito repellent all over my legs, arms, neck and face. In other words any place exposed. The meal that Raa Raa had prepared was quite good. The day before I had a conversation with her about a stomach ailment which I had feigned the night before because I just couldn’t eat anymore Laplap. I hate the stuff. I had told her how I liked green vegetables like capsicum (bell peppers) and pumpkin tops. So there was stuffed capsicum and pumpkin tops with perhaps some canned tuna and also fried bananas. It was wonderful to have been heard. I ate most of it. The NiVan eat copious amounts of food. It’s amazing they aren’t all three hundred pounds. Even food I like I can’t finish the amount they put on my plate. So I was full and then everyone else in the family came to eat. What else, Laplap. Laplap is a gluttonous mash of either manioc, yam, taro or banana. It is wrapped in large leaves. Sometime meat is inserted. Then cooked under hot rocks for several hours. They piles of it. The only time I enjoyed it was one in Mangaliliu of banana and clams. The area where the two flavors mixed was quite good. When everyone sat down to eat I was offered a plate. I couldn’t touch the stuff. I had to decline. Hopefully if I continue to not eat it they will get the message.
I have just come back from a tour of the RTC with Andrew the chairman of the RTC. It was excellent. Andrew is an elder and lives right behind the chief. We looked at the whole complex. While there is much work to do to rebuild a student body and my living quarters need a full renovation, I walked a way with high hopes. We talked for quite a while. It was open communication. I explained my needs regarding living alone. He assured me that work will be done by the time I return. I believe him. He seems sincere. He wants good things for the community and the students. We discussed schedules, potential classes, and the purpose for students to learn skills they can take to their villages where they can make a contribution. Maybe be the local electrician, plumber or mechanic. Thus they serve the community and have a strong sense of self worth. We talked about communications. My need to be seen for myself. He agreed. He understands I have a need to for some time to myself. Need some “white man” time. He said he would pass on that need to my host family. I asked him what he wanted from me. He said open communication and that he felt we had already started it. I agreed. We discussed work ethic. “Black man” style. I too believe in hard work interspersed with laughter, singing, whistling and stories. I told him that’s my way too. Well most of the time. Ala in all it was both productive and reassuring. While I have felt at times that this wasn’t for me I am feeling much brighter now.
11.14.07
Have just returned to Mangaliliu for the second time this week. Came back on Saturday after my week wokabaot on Epi (eventual site) and today from a village on north Efate (this same island) called Paunangisu. All of the RTC trainees went for two days and nights to this village to get training in agriculture. Not some I expect to teach, but certainly need strong awareness as I will have to create and grow my own garden. The PCVs that hosted us are a married couple and are leaving tomorrow morning for six weeks in the states and Jamaica. We stayed next door to there house on the grounds of the health clinic. They have been here for a year and a half and have a very nice two bedroom home. The grounds and the community are quite manicured. It could easily have been in Hawaii, Florida or the Carolina islands. They are looking to extend but they want are rougher more rural setting. Epi is probably just what they are looking for.
So I returned to Vila on Saturday afternoon from Epi. I will be returning in about four weeks. I had a hell of an adventure getting home too. I was up at my regular fiveish and packed for the trip back. It was arranged for the truck to come from picking up the other trainee (Jade) from farther down the road some where after 8 AM. So 8 comes, no truck. OK. 9 comes, no truck. I go sit across the road for some cooler sea breeze. 9:30 comes and so does the rain. So I move my things and myself back up under the tin roof. 9:45 comes and so does Jade and Kristen but no truck. It’s broken. So we load up and start walking to Laamen Bay (the airport is there). Along comes a truck from the other direction and arrangements are made for it to come back and pick us up after it unloads at Jade’s village. So we sit down at the RTC and wait. One hour. Another half hour. We better start walking. It should take an hour and half or so, including the hills. It starts raining again. So with packs, and other goods and the rain we start the trek. First there is a very steep hill. The road is two wheel ruts and the clay surface is slick from the rain. It’s slow going. It takes longer than expected. Somewhere along the way Kristen a veteran of four months says that some times planes arrive early and so take off just as early. At the hospital we take a water break. It’s close to 12:30, we are forty minutes away and our flight is scheduled for 1:40PM. We start walking. We arrive at the airport, a single building, not five minutes before the plane arrives. Wew!!!! I am drenched. This is an eighteen passenger Twin Otter. Once you get in the air you get cool air. Just big jets. But on this plane you can’t turn it off, just away. I’m cold and tired. My only saving grace is the British couple sitting across from me. The beautiful young redhead was actually born in Villa in her parents fourth year living here. She is very interested in the idea of the Peace Corps. She has already met the other trainee in our group who was staying in Laamen. We take off and make at stop and pick up a French couple who had flown up of Villa with us a week earlier. They nod hello. We are back in the air. Finally we arrive in Vila. I have needed to pee for over and hour. I go into the restroom and relieve myself. I look in the mirror and almost don’t recognize myself. I have easily lost fifteen pounds. All my clothes are hanging off me. It could be twenty. My face is lean and tanned. My goatee is white and I stare into the mirror. Glad the weight is gone. I know I’ll lose more too. That’s great but wow. Who am I? When I come out a New Zealander man is awaiting me. He is Robert Early a fairly famous Bible translator. I have been sent home with some of that wonderful Laplap for him. After a few minutes of pleasantries he leaves. Now the three of us decide we should take a bus to the Peace Corps office in Vila. We share it with the British couple. We are hungry, tired and just want to relax. Well it’s after 3PM on Saturday. Everything is closed. No restaurants open for Saturday evening and Sunday. Only place to get food is at the big grocery, Au Bon Marche. I want a beer too. No alcohol sold after noon on Saturday. I’m dying here. Somebody throw me a life preserver. I go to check email and internet at the office. No time truck to Mangaliliu is ready to go. So into the truck, but it stops at a bar where several other trainees are quenching their thirst and decompressing. Then we take them back to the office to get their bags. Gee I could have stayed and done a bit on the net. Nothing is working out my way. Oh well at least I’m heading back to home. Mangaliliu is a welcome site. Everyone is so happy to see us. We are thrilled to see them. Tell my story to the family and then settle in. After dinner and more time sharing, I head down to the beach area to meet some other trainees and share stories and decompress. Sunday after a very long and boring serve we all go to the beach at Mangess. More stories and decompressing. There are a few of group that we may lose. Back home to the family. Dinner and bed. Oh it is so nice to be on a smooth bed. After five weeks the bed here is comfortable. I doubt if I will ever find comfort on the bed at Moriu. So home sweet home. But wait after breakfast I am informed that the RTC trainees will be heading out for two days late in the afternoon. Truth is this training is getting more like boot camp all the time. Well in just about a month I will have a new home for the next two years. Epi here I come.
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