Thursday, March 15, 2012

Teaching Haiku in Vanuatu


The teacher in the years four, five, six classroom has moved to the years seven and eight classroom, leaving me in charge of their class. They have proven to be quite unruly. Keeping them quiet and getting them to participate is challenging. But a new teacher is scheduled to arrive soon to assist me. Mostly I have been focusing on the art of story writing. However yesterday, I decided to switch gears and teach them poetry. I introduced them to haiku and allowed them the chance to write their own haiku. I did not correct grammar or spelling and told them that e.e. cummings and other poets have transcended those rules in the past, and they were free to do so as well. I was surprised at how well they understood the concept once I explained the rules of a haiku, and by their enthusiasm for writing them. However, their recalcitrant behavior still proved difficult and various teachers had to come in and reprimand them. They continued to rebel and I felt a headache coming on. Since Fridays are half-days in Vanuatu, I told them they could leave early once they showed me a valid, original haiku, taking advantage of Melanesian chaos in order to teach them a new skill (and giving me an opportunity to go home and take an Ibuprofen). I realized how little consistency the school system can offer the children here. While the children frustrated me, it was difficult for me to blame or judge them for being unruly when Vanuatu's school system itself is unruly. At my school, teachers are incessantly switching classrooms, arriving late, and canceling class at the last minute. One common practice in Vanuatu is to cancel class for an entire week simply because one student lost a family member. The children here simply reflect the practices of their school and their culture. It is a systemic issue that will not be likely eradicated during my two years in the Peace Corps. However, I have been wondering the past few days if the trick is to flow along with the chaos and still leave the students more enlightened than before.

Guacamole and Laplap


Last week, school was canceled in honor of a public holiday called Chief's Day. The chief in our village was nowhere to be found, but we still celebrated. In honor of the celebration, my host family asked me to make guacamole. I don't know how they'd even heard of guacamole, but I was more than happy to make it. The avocados in Vanuatu are gigantic and quite delicious. As of now, there are in season here. My host family made laplap, the national dish of Vanuatu which is made from either manioc, sweet potato, taro, or banana cooked between banana leaves over an open fire. I was surprised when they asked me to make it spicy, so I added cumin, Mexican chili powder, and cayenne pepper which had been provided to me through care packages and purchased in Port Vila. The lack of spice in Vanuatu cuisine (often called “island kakae”) has caused the food here to become disappointing. Many great fruits and vegetables are available here, including a few that surprise me, such as eggplant, pumpkin, tomato, green peppers, and manioc. I remember having to explain to my host family what cinnamon was. My friends in the Peace Corps have suggested that I teach a cooking class in order to educate them about different spices. I wonder how fruitful that would be since very few spices are available for purchase on Malekula. However, I have talked to the Peace Corps about my aspiration to launch a mural project similar to the one in which I participated in Harlem. So far, they approve. I plan to go through a PCPP, a project in which I raise money through the Peace Corps website. These projects have a ninety-eight percent success rate!

The Millipede and the Flying Fox .





One night this week, as I was lying in bed I felt something wiggle underneath my shoulder and a subsequent pain that began spreading down my arm. It turned out to be a millipede. Millipedes cannot kill or paralyze anyone they bite (unless the victim has an allergic reaction), but the pain can last for twenty-fours hours or more if left untreated. I called the Peace Corps, who told me to speak to my host family. They treated me with poultice, a branch that was burned and the sap poured onto my bite. It worked beautifully, and the pain dissipated within an hour. The health team at the Peace Corps also told to treat the bite with hydrogen, peroxide, iodine, and antibiotic cream. I realized that the people here had inherited an entire knowledge of herbal medicines that had been bequeathed to them by their ancestors. However, I have also realized the dangers of some of the superstitions in my community. The same night, my host father inquired if I ate flying fox, which is a delicacy in Melanesian culture. I told him no, since I am mostly a vegetarian, aside from the occasional fish. I have also always had a fondness for bats and can't picture myself consuming one. I asked him if he ate them. He also told me no, since he believed them to be devils, and this was part of the Seventh-Day Adventist diet in the village. I had to laugh, but I could tell he was quite serious. Bats are the only indigenous mammals to Vanuatu, and play a crucial role in maintaining their ecosystems by pollinating the plant life, just as they do all over the world. In Vanuatu, people kill them with slingshots in order to consume them. But the next day, the boy in the above picture showed me that he had killed a flying fox. I asked him if he had any intention of eating it. He told me no, since he was also a Seventh-Day Adventist. I told him in the future not to kill animals he has no intention of eating. But it was the superstition that bats are devils that caused him to believe he was acting in self-defense when he killed it. Considering these creatures are endangered in many countries, I hope this is a superstition that can be dispelled.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Back To School


The school in my village opened this week. It was quite a chaotic opening. At the last minute, Brian, one of the teachers, informed me that he had become the new headmaster, since the previous one had transferred to another school. In Vanuatu, headmasters and teachers transfer schools every three-five years, and these transfers are frequently haphazard. While my Peace Corps assignment is to teach English, I was asked to teach mathematics at one point. I was comfortable doing so, but wondered what other tasks I might be requested to perform that are not part of my job description. I was impressed by many of the students' English ability and happy to see a poem by Langston Hughes, one of my favorite poets, hanging on the wall. I was also disappointed in the library. There were no books inside it, and there were cinderblocks everywhere. It looked like a bomb had exploded inside the library. I realized there was quite a bit of work to be done in the school. During a social studies lesson, I was also appalled to learn that the three guiding principles in the constitution of Vanuatu are traditional Melanesian values, faith in God, and Christian principles. Coming from a country which, at least in theory, separates church and state, I found this quite shocking. Since coming to Vanuatu, I have encountered Christians of all different denominations, including the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons), Jehovah's Witnesses, Assembly of God, Presbyterianism, Roman Catholicism, and Seventh-Day Adventism. I have also encountered missionaries of all different denominations. Frequently, while walking around Lakatoro running errands, I see Mormon missionaries trying to strike up conversations with locals in order to convert them. Missionary work was spread to Vanuatu through missionary activities, and some of these missionaries were killed and cannibalized. Still, Christianity is a force that infuses all of daily life (including school, where prayer is still practiced and almost never challenged)—and also, in my opinion, limits perspectives. I have heard of Peace Corps Volunteers here in Vanuatu forced to change sites because they were atheists, agnostics, or practiced religions outside the sphere of Christianity and Judaism. I have also noticed that the students are quite diffident and getting them to speak before the class is like pulling teeth. Simultaneously, getting them to be quiet while I am speaking to them is equally difficult. This is a common problem in Vanuatu schools—one that I hope to rectify in my village by engaging the students in material that excites them.

Hold Up In Norsup


After flying into Norsup, the location of Malekula's airport, I learned that my island was being struck by heavy rains. This meant that no trucks were driving back to my village. I intended to go back to my village the next day, but ended up needing to stay there for three days. I had bought many items in Port Vila to set up my house, including a smokeless stove which was quite heavy, so I was left perplexed about how to get both myself and my belongings back to my site. Along with my friends and fellow Volunteers Tim and Natalie, we took refuge at the home of two Volunteers from New Zealand, serving in the New Zealand and British Commonwealth equivalent to the Peace Corps, Volunteer Services Abroad. They were an elderly couple who had come to Malekula to work on education issues. It proved to be quite fun and informative. They told me that a new policy is being enacted which forbids the kindergarten classes (called “kindies” here) to open until an investigation is facilitated to ensure that the correct standards are being conformed to. They were quite angry about this, knowing that many villages will simply not investigate these matters and the kindies there will remain closed. They are currently trying to persuade the Ministry of Education to allow the kindies to open. They also told me about the rising prevalence of diabetes in Vanuatu due to the copious amounts of sugar people mix into their drinks and white rice consumed with vegetables, fish, and meat. I was happy to report that my host family and village are an exception. I see very little sugar and white rice used and have lost quite a bit of weight since coming to my village. When I finally was able to get a truck from Lakatoro to drive me to Norsup to pick up my belongings and everyone else on the truck to help me carry all my heavy bags. The ride back was long, but exquisite and tranquil. Huge bats and birds swooped over me, even through it was broad daylight. Coconut trees encompassed my view everywhere. Locals on the truck rearranged their belongings so that I could be more comfortable. After such a stressful experience trying to get home, I had reached the light at the end of the tunnel—or dirt road.