Vanuatu is so pretty

 

I've been in a bit of a funk lately, since work hasn't been going the way I'd hoped. It's not like it's bad, but we're still having issues with getting the resources that we need to accomplish our goals. It's almost May, and my counterpart hasn't received his work plan (or funding) for the year. It's almost May. 

I've gotten a lot better about accepting that things won't always go the way that I want them to go. It's not like it's not frustrating anymore, but it's easier to accept delays and things like that. I still have to remind myself sometimes that Vanuatu is so beautiful. It's like there's a price to pay. You put up with certain things because the pay off is this. (Pictures are from a work trip to Vao.)

On Saturday, I went up to meet a friend at the swimming beach by the airport. I was the first one to get there, and there was absolutely no one there on this whole stretch of beach. It was just me, and the sun glimmering on the water. It was absolutely idyllic. You think of tropical paradise, and that's what it was for that moment. Just spectacular. I go through my days sometimes on auto pilot (doesn't everyone?) so to have those moments that just shake me, BOOM, is so wonderful. I don't want to forget what's beautiful and special, even when I'm crabby about some little something that doesn't work right the way I want it to.

All These New Folks

There are all of these temporary foreign relief staff in Vanuatu. They have all this money, so they are all doing assessments upon assessments upon assessments. On Malekula, we've had people swing by from organizations to conduct assessments when, if they'd shot anyone a simple phone call, they'd have steered clear. I don't like it. It's very haphazard; people are reproducing work that other people have already accomplished; there's very poor communication. It seems like it would be much more efficient, on every level, if they gave the cash to local organizations and had them conduct relief as they saw fit. 

Bottle wine???

Things in Vanuatu have a long second life. Great example: bottles of wine or liquor, especially with screw tops. This family uses the bottles to store water in their ice box. I always forget to do that, but it's so, so nice to have cold water on a hot day...

I love Vanuatu because...

1. My mom sent me a care package with dried fish and shrimp in it. The guys at quarantine cleared it and sent it to my office. The charge was 2000 vatu (about 20$) for the quarantine fee. They just delivered the package, and trusted me to go to the post office to pay for it. I went to pay, and they said they'd sent the receipt to my office ... and I trust them to do so. Isn't that great?

2. Planes are so civilized here. Things you can carry on a plane: puppies. Chickens. MACHETES. Other people's babies. All you have to do for a domestic flight is show up, get weighed, check in, and wait for the plane. You seat yourself wherever you want to sit. The plane gets there when it gets there, and leaves whenever every passenger is on it. It's so calming. None of this 'take off your shoes, get rid of your water, remove your jewelry' stuff that we have to do in America. 

3. Whenever I meet someone from anywhere, if I have literally met anyone from the same village, I name drop it. I have had a virtually 100% success rate of people saying, "OH! Hemia stret anti/kasen/abu blo mi." (That's my aunt, cousin, grandfather/mother...) Whenever I meet someone I don't know from Tongariki, I tell them that I lived with Paul Jerry and Esther Norsee, and always they sing aot something to my host dad and something to my host mom. It's beautiful. On Malekula, I recently made friends with a staff member's niece from Ifira. I've met another staff member's brother when he gave me a lift to my house. It's so beautiful.

4. When you need to find someone, often people will tell you to go to a nakamal or to find a yard by a church. You go, and ask them: Hey, I'm looking for SoAndSo. And then they tell you SoAndSo if over there and they go get them. Imagine being in America, having someone tell you to just go to a neighborhood and find someone. It's just impossible. It would never, ever work.

5. Culturally, this place has taught me to relax and not worry about things that I can't change. It's taught me to be more stoic, or at least, to complain less when there's nothing that can be done. Maybe the better word is patience? In America, I feel like you always feel like you have the option to change things, to make them better, or to make them hew closer to your vision of what might be acceptable. Here, that's not an option. You have to accept what you have and work with those limitations. It inspires flexibility and innovation.

Learn Namakura

The main language spoken on Tongariki, Buninga, Makira, and Mataso islands is called Namakura. It is also spoken on parts of the Efate mainland, in villages where people are of Shepherds origin. It’s related to other local languages nearby, like Nakanamanga (Tongoa and Emae language), and North Efate language.

I speak really, really crummy Namakura but I understand more than I can reliably spit back out. For the first time, I understand how you have second-generation immigrants who can understand their grandparents but can’t talk to them! It’s like—you understand enough words that you can guess their context, but you don’t actually have enough grammar or the richness of vocabulary needed to make a response. So when people talk to me in Namakura, unless they’re asking a question I know the answer to, I say it in Bislama.

Mostly, the words that I understand are really common words—food words, or God words, or words that tell children what to do or where to go. Luckily for me, Namakura has many loan words from Bislama, and they’re only slightly changed. For example, with loan words that are nouns, in Namakura you add ‘na’ and then say the word from Bislama. I once heard Elsie, my old counterpart, saying ‘NaFesbuk.’ (Facebook.) And ‘Natesdei.’ (Thursday.)

Sentence of the day: Keno ningan nalong ne nahaek. I am eating laplap and fish!

I got a new dog!!

Her name is Camille. She's very tiny and like a little princess who needs to be carried lots of places.

 I got her from Efate. She's probably too small to have -- I think she shouldn't have been weaned yet -- but she eats lots of tuna fish and sweet potatoes. Sorry this is a terrible picture! She moves a lot.

Humorously, this is how she sleeps most of the time. She's like a tiny dog burrito.

Beach Day at Aube, Malekula

 

There's a really beautiful beach by where I now live on Malekula. It's called Aube, and on the weekends, it's full with people having picnics and going swimming. When you go on weekdays, it's totally empty -- and absolutely idyllic.

While I was in Australia, I bought a pair of goggles, so I'm hoping to start doing open-water swimming. It's something I always wanted to do for exercise but never did. One of the great quality of life aspects to my time in Vanuatu is that I have enough time to relax, workout, socialize, and do whatever else I feel like doing. If I want to take off work to go do something, I take off work to go do something. If I want to go swimming, I go swimming. It's like my friend Sam's little host sister on Paama said when her mom wanted her to take a bath -- "Mi boss blo mi wan!" (I'm my own boss.)

I went with my new host mother, Mami Jacqueline, Jo-Jo (who's 19), Cassandra (8 or 9), and another volunteer, Laura. We bought steak and had pre-cooked rice, pineapple, and some frozen chicken. Must wash out the pans in the salt water, right?

  

There are lots of trees around, and different places where you can just make your little picnic area. Very very nice.

But the best thing? SALT WATER CHICKEN COOKED ON CORAL. Not even kidding -- this was absurdly delicious. Somehow it came out all caramel colored with this really delicious flavor. I think it must have had something to do with the temperature of the hot coral. I have never heard of this before -- either on Tongariki or any other island -- but it was super delicious. One of the best picnics I've had in Vanuatu.