Gift of the Sugarbee

Two weeks ago, I was introduced to a man who harvests local sugarbee (honey). I asked him if he had any honey for sale, but he told me he was out. But last week, I was walking to a feast and a truck with two volunteers from the Japan International Cooperation (JICA), who had come to my village to work with the fishermen. I didn't realize at first that the driver was the same man who harvests sugarbee, but he remembered me. After discussing my imminent trip to Japan to see an old, intimate friend in Tokyo with the volunteers, the man reminded me who he was. He produced a large glass jar filled with the sugarbee. I asked if I could pay him later since I had no cash on me. He told me it was a gift. I was quite honored that this man would remember me. In Vanuatu, people remember faces.

Puppies and Kittens

This month, a new litter of puppies and a new litter of kittens were born. Both litters are living outside my house.

The ManBush Walk

Last week, my friend Abby, a returned Peace Corps Volunteer who served as an environmental educator in Paraguay, came to visit me on Malekula on her way to a bird-watching expedition in Malaysia. Together, we embarked on the ManBush Walk, a gorgeous, but grueling five-day trek. Abby spotted several different variegated bird species. We also crawled our way through a cave and disturbed a coven of bats that flew around in our faces. The last day in particular was arduous: A ten-hour hike almost all uphill and downhill. At times, people volunteered to carry my backpack and even carry me in order to remain on schedule. By the end of the trek, I was saturated in bruises and cuts, aches and pains. I am still recovering from it all. But it was incredible to see Abby again and I am quite proud of both of us for completing the hike.

The Yaws Epidemic

As part of my Peace Corps training in Port Vila, I attended a lecture on yaws—something none of us had previously heard of, and for good reason. Vanuatu is one of only thirteen countries still affected by yaws, a bacterial infection that causes bone structure to decay and the immune system to deteriorate. Yaws is spread through blood-to-blood contact, and while it was previously thought that the epicenter was the southern island of Tanna, it has spread all throughout the archipelago. Yaws is easily remedied by a dose of intravenous antibiotics and Azithromycin, a medication that would by prescription at any pharmacy in the developed world. The fact that Vanuatu is still affected by yaws is a sign of how abysmal and defective the health care system is here. Cultural taboos and financial constraints prevent people from seeking treatment. The main sign that someone is affected by yaws is a large open wound that often attracts insects. When we saw pictures of this symptom, we all agreed that yaws is ubiquitous—we saw it all the time in our respective sites. A new campaign is being launched in Vanuatu to eradicate yaws from the country. This will not be easily achieved. However, Peace Corps Volunteers here (including volunteers who have not been assigned to work on health issues) will be included in this campaign next year. More updates to come.

Wine, Cheese, and Kastom Dancing

Two weeks ago, while in Port Vila for a training, I received a last-minute invitation to an event commemorating the 20^th anniversary of Alliance Française, the French embassy in Port Vila. The event featured a gallery show of twenty modern ni-Vanuatu painters. I was quite impressed by the sublime quality of the painting. Some of them looked like photographs since they were so realistic. Others combined elements of indigenous art forms with more modern designs. It also featured a kastom dance, something I had been wanting to experience since I came to Vanuatu and thought I may not be able to since they do not happen in my village. (Seventh-Day Adventists are often adverse to nearly naked dancing.) There were various speeches, but they were all in French. I was one of the few people there who did not speak French fluently. Even the ni-Vanuatu attendees  The contrast  of wine, cheese, and mini quiches and nearly nude dancers shaking rattles, beating drums, and wearing body paint was quite striking. There were five male dancers and each of them chanted in vernacular languages. Afterward, they demonstrated their sand-drawings in a tray that had been filled with sand. Children tried to emulate the drawings after the dancers had finished. In other news, I recently booked my flights to Beijing and Tokyo. Beginning in December, I will be taking my vacation to travel around China and Japan. So look forward to entirely different stories and pictures on this blog.

Climbing Mount Marum

After teaching a workshop on art history, Allegra, Mi Lee, and I planned to climb Mount Marum, an active volcano on Ambrym. It was an intense daylong climb. We braved it with another volunteer's host father and a porter. The entire time I felt like I was on another planet, but particularly on the ash plain and at the top of the volcano. Because we were volunteers, he cut us a great bargain and carried our tents. When we arrived at the top of the volcano, we met an American filmmaker from New York and a New Zealander documentary film crew. The American was filming an online film called “The Deep Field.” Their crew had brought a generator and Internet and reserved helicopters to bring them food. Teetering at the edge to take pictures was a challenge. The lava pit was hypnotic. We pitched a tent at the base camp. We returned to it at night. The lava turned the sky red and gave our figures a ghostly effect which reminded me of the paintings of David Hockney and Marc Chagall,both painters I discussed with the children at my school and the school at Allegra's site. It was my first volcano, and hopefully not my last.

The Ambrym Reunion That Almost Wasn't

Life in Vanuatu is rarely consistent. Sometimes it drives you. Other times, it works ideally. Late last month, as I prepared for my trip to the neighboring island of Ambrym to visit Allegra, another volunteer, with my friend Mi Lee, I learned that Mi Lee's plans for walking to the other side of the island to join us had been usurped by her host family's fears of black magic, as she had planned to walk with her host brother. I also learned that there would be no trucks to the airport on the day of my flight since it was a public holiday. People warned me several times about black magic, but only warned me about the problems with the trucks after it was too late to make a contingency plan. I ended up having to charter a truck part of the way to the airport and pay a substantially higher fee. I also got a text from Mi Lee that she'd gotten a flight to the other side of the island to meet us at the last minute and planned to surprise Allegra. We both met on the same flight, which experienced fog and never landed at our destination. Instead, we landed in Port Vila, the economic and political capital. Of course, since it was the airline's mishap, the airline had to cover our accommodations. Two French tourists and one boy student were also meant to land in Ambrym and were held up. I used the time to purchase supplies, conduct research, and meet other volunteers. Mi Lee learned that a research paper she co-authered on fish societies and the influence of DNA is about to be published in a scientific journal. We ended up going to Ambrym two days later on a special plane that had been arranged just for us. It was also the smallest plane I have ever seen. I bought a baguette, Emmantelle cheese, and red wine to take back to Allegra's house, and we all celebrated together.

Music Night

Last month, the school in our village held a music night in which the kids of various classes sang, danced, and performed small children's plays. I was impressed by the costumes. I made a small cat mask for the Year 2's play about a cat. The kids also made arts and crafts out of coconut leaves for me, and I was equally impressed by their dexterity.

Voyage to Vao

A few weeks ago I visited a nearby island called Vao. I went for a day trip because I had heard it was resplendent. The landscapes, ocean views, Catholic churches, and tribal sculptures certainly were. I was sadly not allowed to take photographs. I was shown the site of the most recent case of cannibalism in Vanuatu, as well as a church where genital mutilation is still practiced on adolescent boys as a rite of passage during Christmas time. I didn't feel comfortable telling the people there I opposed this practice. However, I did enjoy the intricate tribal sculptures with sharks, dolphins, snakes, and Christ images.

Zen, Gender, and HIV Education

Last May, I attended a week-long conference on gender issues and sexual health on the island of Espiritu Santo. Many friends from the Peace Corps also attended, and most of us brought participants from our respective villages. The Ni-Vanuatu counterparts were quite excited to visit another island, as this is a rare opportunity for most of them. As an optional activity, I volunteered to lead Zen meditation every morning. The program entailed sitting meditation, walking meditation, and readings from the Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh. I was uncertain how others would react to it, due to the religious fervor and right-wing Christian propaganda that plague the country. However it actually was quite successful, growing in number each day. One day, about thirty people participated. It was a stellar example of the Buddhist teaching that the most profound, valuable gift one can offer is one's authentic presence, to be there in body and spirit. However there were also some revelations that were ultimately disappointing. On an information session on HIV transmission, many Ni-Vanuatus revealed that they believed local and herbal remedies could cure HIV. Considering they came from the more educated echelons of the society, this was quite disturbing. Another disturbing revelation was that the women participants could not name any female leaders in their communities. Knowing how vital female empowerment is for human development, this revealed one of the most significant obstacles to development. We worked with the participants to show them the reasons why these myths need to be refuted and gender equality established. This is the mission of the Peace Corps.

Scratching Coconuts

The elders in my host family have given me a unique new skill: Making coconut milk from scratch. The process entails taking brown coconuts and using a sharp device to scratch the coconut meat into small strips. Water is added and then the mixture is squeezed over a strainer.

Friday the 13th

Last Friday I took the early truck ride into Lakatoro in order to run my usual errands of purchasing groceries, checking email, and withdrawing cash from the bank. I also had the opportunity the talk to the Cultural Center, which displayed an impressive collection of masks, statues, and photographs. It was Friday the 13th. I told the curator about my intention of launching a mural project in my village that conserves and celebrates the indigenous sand-drawings which are bequeathed through vernacular oral tradition. They were very excited about the project and even showed me a book of various sand-drawings which including instructions on how to cast them. But as the day went on, I learned that my truck had left without me and was forced to find another way home. Vanuatu transportation is often dictated by conjecture and chaos. After talking to various people, I finally found one man who said he was going to my village. He told me he had found a truck that would be leaving shortly. When the truck finally arrived, I boarded it, believing it would take me home. But after a few minutes of driving, the driver drove back to Lakatoro and we waiting for hours for another truck to transport the rest of our group that wanted to be taken to the Northwest. The plan was to divide us between two different trucks since our group was too large. But the other truck did not come for several hours. While awaiting the truck, I met a lovely woman from a village that neighbors mine asked me to come to her village and paint a mural there as well. I told her I would alter the grant application to include this plan. Finally the truck arrived and took me back to my village. It was quite crowded and one person stepped on a tea device I had and shattered it. (Luckily, another Peace Corps Volunteer is sending me another one from Port Vila.) I was forced to sit between two loud, inebriated men who would not stop yelling in my ears. We stopped a few times so that people on the other truck could trade cigarettes. People were also reaching all over the truck to retrieve things, without caring that they were touching each other in intimate places. I thought, “It's just like a New York subway. All that's missing is the Lubavitchers, the Mariachi band, and the breakdancers.” We made detours and for awhile I was worried since I didn't recognize the scenery. We passed a large stereo and a small boy dancing. I thought, “There's the breakdancer.” We didn't get back to my village until 11:00 at night. I came back feeling indignant and judgmental. I couldn't understand why the truck would leave without me and several other passengers. I had heard that this was a common problem in my village of drivers abandoning their passengers. I had not paid the driver for the initial ride, thinking that paying him for both trips when I returned was a better strategy. I never believed in the superstition of Friday the 13th before. I now believe.

Building a Fence With Village Kids

Last week, I gathered five village teenagers to assemble a garden fence. The fence is a necessity for my garden in order to obstruct chickens from transgressing in and eating the seeds. They built it out of bamboo trunks and coconut leaves. I was quite impressed by their expertise and dexterity. I helped by gathering fallen coconut leaves, but it was the youth who did the majority of the work. The fence is now finished. Makina, my host sister, and I have now planted and are cultivating sandalwood, green peppers, two tomato varieties, coriander, bok choy, orange trees, and my favorite, eggplant. The bok choy is already sprouting. Two pumpkin plants and three pineapple trees are already growing.

Morning Slaughter

Last week I took the early truck to Lakatoro in order to check my email, purchase groceries, and run other errands. The trucks always leave at sunrise, which requires me to wake up at 4:00am so that I have time to meditate before the trucks leave. On the way, the driver pulled up into another village in a detour. We stopped to find a man standing with a pig tied to a fence. To my shock, the man began strangling the pig. Killing a pig is not a quick process. Of course, I heard it squeal and watched it writhe for about ten minutes at 6:00am. Finally, it died and the man brought it onto the truck. My friends' response has been consistently “That's so Vanuatu!”

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.