Nostalgia Alert

So I'm on the train going down to Richmond right now, and I've spent the past hour editing some of my photos.

Thought 1: Kass, I have so many photos to edit!

Thought 2: Man, I'm bad at editing photos. What on Earth do you do if, when you originally took the picture, the sky was white? Or if, when you originally took the picture, your camera made the sky appear white (and thus made the people in the photo look strange?) I can't make the sky dark without washing people's faces out.

Thought 3: Wow, I caught a lot of good moments. 

Here are a few of the ones that I've edited so far, some of which have appeared here before. But just for nostalgia's sake:

 

Camp GLOW

GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a global Peace Corps program that teaches leadership, life skills, and reproductive health to young women. (The equivalent program for boys is BILD--Boys In Leadership Development).

My absolute, very last, final, in-person project on Tongariki was to run a GLOW with the girls at Coconak School aged 12-17. Every day after school for three weeks, I had an hour session, with three half-day sessions thrown in. It was an absolute blast.

Collages

I did most of the leadership and life skills sections by myself. The program starts with talking about leadership styles, why you should love yourself, and tells girls that they need to think about their goals and dreams. We did a lot of talking about future goals -- what the girls want to do and where they want to go. Some of them want to be teachers or nurses and some of them want to live on the island and work in the garden. The point wasn't to tell them that they all need to go to USP (the university), but to get them thinking. How many children is it good to have? How much money do you need to have to live the kind of lifestyle you want? (Nowadays, pretty nice living on Atong is when you have a DVD player, a solar set up, a phone, enough nice clothes, and the money to buy things like biscuits and tin without worrying.) The point was to get them to think about how they can take control of their life. If they want to run a small store out of their house, they need to think about how to do it.

We also talked a lot about managing projects, and how women leaders have a really important role in the community. In America, 20% of senators and 18% of representatives are women. Women have a role as mayors, county commissioners, school board leaders ... In Vanuatu, there are 0 women MPs. I have heard of a woman in Tafea province who had some elected position in the province -- but that's it. Women leaders are more common in the church, and there are some women who play an active role in committees. But just because there's a place that is reserved for a woman doesn't mean that the woman who takes the position acts as a leader. The point was -- you have a right to be heard, to have a responsibility (if you can) to stand up for other people who are too afraid to speak up. 

Tie-dye

This was a program for young women, so we talked a lot about healthy relationships, too. I did these sessions with the help of my counterpart, the wonderful Elsie Daniel. We were talking to the girls about things like -- when is it good to have a boyfriend? How should you treat your boyfriend? How should he treat you? What is a normal fight, and what is abuse? The highlight was a Jenga game in which you had to add or remove blocks, depending on situations written on sheets of paper. The situations were like : Mom wants to use a condom, and Dad agrees, because they have enough children already. Dad hits Mom. Mom sends the kids to buy matches, but the kids just play and never go to the store. Mom cheats on Dad. Mom is sweeping the house, so Dad washes the clothes. Mom and Dad go to the garden, so Big Sister watches the little kids. Even the other teachers were looking at the situations after the students went home (definitely helped that this was on a day with a severe weather warning!)

Card sorting

The last section was adolescent reproductive health. In America, we teach youth about puberty and sex early, and build up it every year in health class. Vanuatu's curriculum has puberty in class 6 and sex ed in class 10. Many teachers are embarrassed, because this is a very conservative culture, and they'll skip it. Also, a lot of kids don't make it to class 6, forget class 10.

Luckily, Elsie was there, and she's the headmistress, so it was all a go. I am really proud of this week. Out of the 25 girls who took part in the sex ed section, only 3 said that their mothers or aunties had told them in depth about what sex is and how you get or avoid pregnancy. 

We started by talking about puberty. Step 2 was doing body ID cards, in which they had to put names to pictures of male and female reproductive systems. Then we did card sets that showed sperm production, the menstrual cycle, and how sex and fertilization work. (The cards are the best things in the entire world.) The last day was talking about family planning -- what it is, how it works, and who should use it. We told the girls that it's not just about limiting the size of your family but about spacing children and timing them as well, making sure that they understood that family planning is good not only for young couples who don't want children yet, but also for new mothers with smolsmol babies and for women who already have four or five children and feel that enough is enough. Many women in Vanuatu have five or six children, which is fine, but our point was to go back to the beginning, about what they want their lives to be like. It's great to have ten children if your husband is a big man and has lots of money and can build you a big house and hire a house girl. It's pretty crummy to have ten children if you all sleep in a kitchen and you can't pay school fees for any of them. As a young woman, you have to think about these sorts of things. We can have babies from our mid-teens to our mid-to-late-40s, in some cases, so it's not cool for embarrassment to block girls from getting the knowledge that they need.

The day before I left, last day!!

I feel really proud of my GLOW. It was a labor of love and I hope that the girls can use some of that information in the future. 100%, I want to do another one or two on Malekula this next year. It's just such a great program -- the Gender and Development committee run by PCVs here is absolutely stellar. The stuff they produce is so perfect for Vanuatu, and it makes it so easy for volunteers. I never would have thought I could teach a fun and interactive session -- about the sperm cycle. On my own, it would have been some boring lecture that would have been about as uninformative as possible. A round of applause to GAD! 

BABY!

RENATA AMANDA! YU NO KAKAE PIJIN!

Little Amanda is the age where she puts everything ... everything ... everything into her mouth. Her brother Kiki caught the bird -- and unfortunately, it was not dead in that photo. Or should I say, fortunately it wasn't dead? Germs.

My diaries

Before I came to the Peace Corps, I had never reliably kept a diary. Never once had I finished a diary, either -- I would usually get about six entries in and abandon them. 

I just finished my fifth diary. I've been rereading them, and they're pretty funny. I mean, no one can ever be allowed to look at them. They're 30% moping, 10% recording what book I was reading, 5% discussing whether I had manioc at lunch and yam at dinner or the reverse, 15% elation, 10% future plans, 10% oh-by-the-way-that-big-thing-happened-while-I-was-off-island-and-here-are-all-of-my-feelings, 10% tirades about materialism and consumerism, and 10% plans about the things that I wish I could purchase. Especially the last two parts -- it's screamingly funny how few pages separate entries where I'm all like, Americans are suffocating under the weight of all of their possessions! and entries where I'm like, when I get to Vila, I want to get my eyebrows done and then I'll go get a mojito and then ...

Gain some, lose a lot

Moving out of Tongariki has been a mixed bag. Truthful talk: my life on Malekula is a lot, a lot, a lot easier. I used to feel like living on Tongariki day to day was something of a physical struggle--go get firewood, go carry water, go sweep everyday but still have leaves all around the yard ... and that's forgetting my biggest complaint of all time, which is arranging boat travel!

I like the new regime: electricity is pretty cool. Everything is more of a no-brainer--I can walk to the airport. It's just really easy to live from day to day.

BUT AWO, ATONG! I feel so anonymous on Malekula. I don't have -- and won't develop -- the sort of easy relationships with everyone there that lead all the little kids to come to my door demanding that I take their photos. You gain some, you lose a lot.

Tongariki vs. Malekula

A few obvious differences between Tongariki and Malekula:

1. There are actually a lot of tourists on Malekula. There are bungalows and hikes and a tourism information center. There's also a call center (??) that helps tourists get into contact with rural bungalow owners. No tourists on Atong.

2. They sell lots of stuff here. Bread, sweetened condensed milk, sandwiches, tomato paste, coffee ... On Tongariki we ran out of peanut butter and phone credit like twice a month.

3. The market here is pretty good. It's not the best one I've ever seen, but there are about twenty or thirty women selling raw vegetables and fruits every day, with some other people selling bread/tuluk (island tamales)/samosas. ... On Tongariki, no market.

4. So many trucks here! SO MANY TRUCKS. And you pay 100 vatu and they just drive you wherever.

5. So many kava bars! SO MANY KAVA BARS.

What's Going On In My Life Right About Now

I just wanted to make a quick post to explain what's going on in my life right now. There have been a ton of changes, but I feel like if I just wait around, I'll never get to typing it.

The biggest change is that I finished my service on Tongariki. This was my last month on that island. It's really strange for me that now I have to think of Tongariki as that place I lived on, and not that place I live on. I had a really busy, exciting last month. I applied for a shipment of story books from Darien Book Aid and just got notification that they've been shipped. I co-wrote an AusAid grant asking for a water tank for the kindy--fingers crossed, notification goes out in about ten days. I wrote a 45-page community profile, which was about the longest and most complicated thing I've written since I graduated. The health committee and I opened our water tank project -- thanks USAID! Ol smolsmol aelan blong Shepherds i gat wan bigfala nid blong saed blong wota, be yu yu givhan bigwan long mifala! I also held a Camp GLOW, which was absolutely the most satisfying workshop series I've ever done. GLOW is a girls' leadership and life skills program. It focuses on all the usual suspects--goal setting, leadership style, healthy relationships, adolescent reproductive health--but it was just a blast. In Vanuatu, sex ed isn't taught until class 10, which is such a terrible idea since A) most children do not reach class 10 and B) many of the students who do reach class 10 might be as old as 20, and thus well beyond the critical learning years. I left my camera cord in Vila, but my GLOW was just great. It was so much fun it felt like my birthday present to myself.

I also got ready to leave site ... and that was so hard. In Vanuatu, we have these feasts called last kakaes that most communities hold to say good bye to their PCV. My last kakae was the saddest thing imaginable. I was hoping to try and keep it together, but the second I got into the room and they started singing hymns, I started to bawl. I don't think ever in my life I've left a place and known, without a doubt, that you can never go back. I know I will go back to Tongariki, but I don't live there anymore. The greatest thing that Peace Corps does is let you come to love people who aren't anything like you. And especially on Tongariki -- as a volunteer, it was just me and my little village and my little island. The chairman of the chiefly council gave a speech, as did the health committee chair and the school committee chair, and two of the pastors, too. When I gave my speech, I was just crying the whole time. There's a certain way to give speeches here -- you have to address everyone, ol chief, ol mama mo papa, ol pikinini--and it was hard to get those words out. I told them that they treated me like family, that I consider living on Tongariki for these two years to have been one of the greatest blessings of my life, and that when I'm an aged grandmother I will think back to them and remember them always. The students sang a song and I accepted a bunch of presents, did a kava ceremony, had lunch. I had cried so much I felt sick for the rest of the day. It is devastating. 

I had about one more week on the island. I finished my GLOW, sold all of my things, and cleaned my house up. I also had the swellest birthday party ever. Last year, my birthday was pretty sub-par, but this year, I wanted to have a party. After a lot of asking, I bought a goat for 40 bucks. My papa helped me kill it (!!) and then he and the other men in the family butchered it. We made a big pot of soup and invited everyone in the village and all my good friends from around the island. It ended up being (happy) speeches, (happy) church hymns, and then (happy) kava drinking and (happy) dinner. I had also bought a bottle of "spirit drink" (sounds high quality, right?) and it was just a lot of fun. A lot of people came to celebrate, and it was just a really nice time. My party was on 16 October, even though my birthday is 18 October, because ....

I was waiting for a cargo ship. So, originally I'd thought I would try to put my stuff on a ship and then fly out, or just take a small boat charter to North Efate. But plans change, and Jo-Ellen 2, the newest cargo ship, was coming to pick up delegates for the Central Island Presbytery meeting. Long story short, I spent my 25th birthday sleeping on a sack of kava, and I got into Vila at 3 in the morning.

So here's the big news which I haven't written here. I have moved to Malekula island, in Malampa Province, to the north a bit. Starting in January, I will be living in Lakatoro (the provincial center) and working at the provincial disaster office. I'll be doing awareness about climate change, disaster risk reduction, and first aid, as well as liaising with other offices to further their disaster work in the province. I've been pretty sure that this is what was up since about July, but it's been a while in the making. I'm so excited about this! I love love love Vanuatu and don't want to leave just now. It's a big change but I'm thrilled. It's a new adventure for 2015.

3 Great Misconceptions

1. I am Australian. Or Kiwi. Or French.

2. My little neighbor, aged 8, asked me why I vomit out of my window every morning. (That would be toothpaste.

3. The time I arranged an Easter egg hunt for the school kids. 94 children thought it was fun and liked the candy, and 1 little girl started to cry. When I asked her what was wrong, I found out that she thought the smarties in her egg were deworming medicine. (The most tragic!)

A few library pictures

My library's not so big ... but it's nice to have an extra space for classes.

Most of Class 2 can't read that well yet, but Ben can! This kid is very advanced. He's very eager to try and read new words. It's weird being a teacher and reflecting on what my teachers must have thought of me when I was in elementary school ... Oy.

Run to the cargo ship

Saltwater, Atong

Espeline, Carolannie, and Lemako

One of the volunteers in my group, Mike, wrote a piece in our volunteer newspaper on how to take photos. Technically, I'm aware most of my photos are ... not that great. But he suggested that when you're trying to take photos, you should do your best to do something funny, tell a joke, or make a face, so that the subjects of your photo look alive. I just liked this picture because I think it turned out pretty well--those faces! 

Taken at my house, of course. (Where else do I take photos?) This is right over by the kitchen. 

A Girl and Her Pig

This is one of the Class 4 students over in Tavia village. Just a girl ... and her pig. (That village is nothing but pigs. Pigs here. Pigs there. Pigs absolutely everywhere.)

Likes/Dislikes

What do I like and dislike about living in a bush village setting?

LIKE:
1. My neighbors know and care about me. If I don't show up to something, they come to check up on me. I feel like they treat me like family.

2. I never feel lonely because I always have people to talk to or go hang out with. If I want to go swimming, I just walk around until I find some kids who look like they're up to nothing. 

3. I've never had the sentence 'I thought Peace Corps would be more of a challenge' come out of my mouth. No water, electricity, internet, airport, bread -- it's been real.

4. Because the community is so small and interacts so much with each other, I've really gotten to know this culture. I've never had a cross-cultural interaction that's been this intense before and it's been really meaningful to me. I like that I understand how Ni-Vanuatu on my island live their lives. I like feeling included.

5. $$$. I am always island rich, never town poor. It's petty, but I like the fact that I always have money to enjoy myself when I want to. Admittedly, a lot of that is due to my bare bones shopping lists, but I like that every time people go out for kava, or drinks, or dinner (when we're in town, of course), I can always afford to go. I can go on vacation. I can buy new things without thinking about them.

6. Man Shepherds is like a weird club. When I'm off the island and I tell people I'm from Tongariki, their first question is, "Be yu save toktok langwij smol?"


DISLIKE:
1. Traveling to the Shepherds is an almighty pain in the ass. People who live on big islands with regular flights have no idea about how frustrating it can be to get stuck out in the middle of nowhere.

2. The ships don't come regularly leads to a lack of things like credit ... or peanut butter ... all the time.

3. I am out in the middle of nowhere, so I don't work with other people, NGOs, governmental organizations, et cetera. Some volunteers have gotten some really exciting opportunities with other groups working in their region, but I have not.

4. When things of mine break, they are broken forever! This is the same as complaint #1,2, and 3 -- I live in the middle of nowhere and I can't go buy new things because they're not there!

5. Uh ... I guess I don't like the fact that there are like roosters and loud children in the morning. But that's something you can really only avoid by living in a fancy expat apartment or something where you don't live near other people.

6. Man, I'm really  struggling here ... I guess I don't like that now that I'm going to leave here, it's going to be extra hard to come back. I mean, maybe Man Tongariki will get it together and finally build that airport they've been talking about forever? That's not really a complaint though.

Compliment Sandwich Part of the Deal:

On great days: I love this place!

On terrible days: I hate this stupid place!

Reality (averaged): I love this stupid place, and it just feels wrenching to leave it. It's been great and boring and exciting and really, really weird. I feel like it's stretched me so much and offered me so much more than I ever offered it. Laff yu, Atong. 

RIP WINSTON!!!!

Sad news. My puskat is dead.

Sorry that this is a gross picture. But this is what Winston was best at: ANNIHILATING RATS.

It was a matter of time. Winston was a jerk. He ate baby chicks all the time. Someone was going to finally have it. Vanuatu isn't like America--people don't see animals the same way that we do. It's like they're property, not family, and they're very replaceable. I mean, my host parents are on their fourth cat since I met them. Things happen to animals here; they just don't last that long. In my case, one of my neighbors killed him. I'm not thrilled about it but this is so common here. Off of the top of my head, I can think of six volunteers whose pets were killed by a neighbor; it just happens. If this was America, I'd be really angry, but he was an island cat, and this is basically what happens to cats (and dogs) here. You almost never see an old animal because things just happen.

He was such a good cat, though. When I first got to site and was really scared of everything but trying hard to maintain and put on a good front, it was nice to have a pet. I'm just going to sit here, stroking my cat, don't mind me... He kept my house rat free and shared my tuna fish. When I ran out of tuna fish, he'd condescend to eat peanut butter and breakfast crackers with me. What more could you want? RIP Winston.

Here is a poem that my host mama taught me. Remember, Mami Esther doesn’t drink kava … and I do. Awo.

Kava kava kava

I spoelem hed blong papa

Taem we san i ko daon

Papa i ting abaot kava

Hemi no ting abaot edukesen blong mi

Kava kava kava

(Kava, kava, kava … It messes up Dad’s head. When the sun goes down, Dad thinks about kava. He doesn’t think about my education. Kava, kava, kava.)

Like I said … awo. True. Most volunteers in Vanuatu drink a lot of kava. Me too! Kava makes you feel great and the 5-7 p.m. drinking time is social, cheap, and a really enjoyable part of my day.  But kava is a social issue, too. You’ll hear about men who go out drinking kava until 10 or 11 p.m. at night, and they make their wives stay up waiting for them without eating their dinner. Or you hear about yangfala who spend all of their money on kava when there are other things they should save up for (like a ticket out of Vila.)

I thought it was clever.

Swinging

Rope swings, Erata, Atong

Puskat blong mi

This is Winston. He's not really my cat, but he thinks he is. (And this is my little sister, Josineth.)

Winston was the previous volunteer's cat. Unfortunately, she was medically separated six months into her service. Josineth was her actual host sister, so Winston went to go stay with her family.

When I moved to Tongariki, this cat literally bounded across my yard and back into my house. I think he looked at me and went waet missus ... my white missus!!! and that was that. Originally, I really didn't like him because he just comes and goes as he pleases. The sides of my house don't meet my roof, so my cat jumps in and out whenever he wants. This can be a little annoying in the middle of the night, especially when he knocks things over. Originally, I tried to sack him out the front door every time he jumped in through the sides, but he thought it was a game. So there.

Winston has fleas but is a very good mouser. In return for his eternal love and devotion, I always share my tuna fish with him and let him sleep on my bed. He's going to stay on the island when I go--he's definitely an island cat, not a house cat. He eats anything that moves (and most things that don't).

One of my favorite photos of my uncle David

I just like this photo because this is pretty much what Lolo David does with his evenings. Jokes, chews kava, jokes, chews kava. This photo was taken in the main room of my host parents' house. So on the red tray are little pieces of kava root that have been cleaned. They're cut to about the size of french fries. You take a few at a time, chew them to mush, then spit them out into the bowl. Once you've chewed through all of them, you mix the chewed mush with water. Then you drain it through a piece of cloth to take the fibrous bits out.

It's disgusting. But it'll do the trick!

School Time Table

As a volunteer, I spend a lot of time looking at my school and thinking about what should be done better. A lot of what I view as areas needing improvement have to do with a lack of resources, and some of the rest has to do with cultural things, like little parental involvement. My teachers don’t have access to resource books, copiers, and all of the other things that make running interactive activities easier in the States. And the parents at my school aren’t like the parents I remember from being in primary school. I still remember being in first grade, having Dad read about Mama Mama Hucklebuck and Papa Papa Hucklebuck and Pony Pony Hucklebuck. I remember all of the class parties my Mom did. And I remember other parents – the Mothers’ desk at St. John’s; parents volunteering to read and help with field trips and even do the Art sessions in Class 6. Here, no gat. The parents have to work in the gardens.

But one thing I want to say: my school starts on time. I wish my teachers used their curriculum books less, but they're responsible and professional. The kids on Tongariki get all of the contact hours that they're supposed to have. And the kids show up to school, too. They don't take random holidays just because they don't want to go to school.

I’m saying this because I was just at a school that isn't like this. And, talking to a few other volunteers, my situation—of a school that runs when it’s supposed to—is not really that common throughout Vanuatu. You know, we’re all just fish who can’t see the water we’re swimming in. I focus a lot on the things that need improvement at my school, but compared to this other school I visited, Tongariki is doing a lot of great things. This other school, the kids weren’t starting their English periods until 8:30 or 8:45 in the morning, and several of the teachers just … weren’t at school.

My time is winding down on Tongariki. I’ve done a lot of good stuff and there’s always stuff to do. But I think it’s time to start looking at the positive things about my service and not obsessing over the fact I'm the only one excited about reading corners. 

Weird lighting, but this sums up my entire Peace Corps experience...

I was playing around with my camera which is why the lighting is so messed up. That's Daddy Paul with an enormous fish. Wilma is just chilling in the foreground. Auntie Ruth is doing dishes. And that mosquito net? That's the net that's being used to pick up leaves and other dirty.

In front of my host families old kitchen, some time in 2013.