Quarter Life Crisis - Vanuatu

Project Video

2011-12-03T08:42:00.003+11:00

The video below shows the building project we have been working on the past several months in the village. It was a really big project that involved the entire community working together to expand our community hall and repair the woman's house. Thank you to all the supporters who donated to the Peace Corps Partnership Program which funded the project, everyone here is very, very appreciative!

Crazy Times

2011-11-07T06:24:00.004+11:00

A lot is happening here and all at once.

The construction project to build the extension to our community hall and women's house is drawing to an end. Will be sure to post some pics online, but after months of hard work it looks pretty nice. Cement floors have replaced the dirt and coral stones, copper walls have been taken out and exchanged with hand woven bamboo. Have almost finished installing a solar light system with the assistance of a very knowledgeable local man. The opening party for this building is scheduled for the end of the month.

My main assignment to create a local government council consisting of leaders from multiple villages is nearly finished as well. Tomorrow we launch the council in the village and I will try not to bore all the VIP government visitors with my 50 page community profiling report and Powerpoint presentation.

This Friday I perform at the biggest music festival in the South Pacific called "Fes Napuan". Will be rapping in pidgin Bislama with a local reggae group that has a very nice Damian Marley like sound. Anyhow, the performance should be televised and broadcasted via radio across the Pacific. Have been practicing this week and last week for the big show. It should also be streamed live on the internet (if you can figure out the time difference for the Pacific), go to http://festnapuan.org/ for more information. (My artist name is Tribal Chant / Nawarake.)

Soccer season is in full swing. I scored a goal on Saturday even though my team lost 2-1. The police force just supplied our team with a brand new lawn mower which is quite nice for maintaining our field through an aid program I have been applying for the past few months.

And finally, I return to the village today with some Peace Corps staff to attend a community meeting involving the recent child molester. The man is now in prison awaiting his court hearing this Friday and the police returned last week to carry some more statements from village children. Learned some very terrible details by reading a few of the boy's statements.

Anyhow in a bizarre twist, the local man who was hosting the child molester in his yard threatened to fight both myself and the teacher who reported the case to the police. It's my personal belief that he is just trying to save face by pretending to be angry at someone else as he now claims the child molester is a good Christian and that the teacher and I are responsible for imprisoning him. (This man has a son that was molested yet never bothered once to speak with the police or read any statements offered by other victims.)

Once again, I bare witness to what kind of odd situations a lack of education can create. Anyhow, the entire village is on my side and the man who has threatened both myself and the teacher will have to pay a fine to myself and the teacher and apologize in front of the community.

Crazy times....

Stranger Arrested

2011-10-29T10:43:00.000+11:00

Upon returning to the village Thursday evening, I interviewed some children with concerned parents and heard some disturbing stories involving the strange "white man" visitor molesting some young boys on several occasions.

I resisted a strong urge to confront the man that night. A group of young men approached me wanting to form a group and fight the man. I talked them down, explaining that if we fought the man, he most likely would run away before the police had a chance to question him. A school teacher had already reported the case to the police and we were told that some officers would arrive the following morning to investigate.

I drank a big shell of kava to make myself sleep, otherwise I would have spent the night angry and tempted to confront the man. I awoke at 3AM, tossed and turned thinking about situation in the village and arose from bed deciding that it would be impossible to sleep.

The police questioned the children intensively from 10AM - 3PM. At first they denied everything, changing their stories, but a local man told the children that if they lied, they too would be sent to jail. Afraid of being sent to prison, around ten young boys offered their testimony.

Many parents were surprised to hear their stories. Apparently the "white man" had been attending Bible studies at a local church and the pastor had even proclaimed him to be a good Christian.

The police took all of our statements and took the man into their custody for questioning. He will be held for up to 2 weeks in jail until a judge reviews the case and evidence and decides to set bail. I hope that the man pleads guilty so that the village children are not dragged into a courtroom to prolong this whole mess.

Univited Guest

2011-10-27T07:44:00.003+11:00

Last Thursday, a strange "white man" from New Zealand was dropped off on my doorstep by a village bus driver. I was in the midst of a training session with our football club when I was informed that "a friend" had arrived and was waiting for me. So believing that an aquaintance had come to visit, I left training and approached our village bus to discover that a complete stranger was waiting for me.

He appeared to be a bit of a hippie. Our rural village is not really accustomed to tourists or overnight visitors, so his arrival was a surprise for us. The visitor informed me that he had been travelling throughout Vanuatu for several weeks and that someone in Port Vila had recommended that he spend a few nights in our village. He then found a bus to take him to our village and the driver simply delivered him to the doorstep of the only resident "white man", a.k.a. myself. I intended to offer him my host family's thatch roof house which is currently empty. However, the visitor stated that he preferred to sleep in his own tent because of mosquitoes.

I returned to football practice assuming that the visitor would set up his tent on one of the nearby beaches but later discovered that locals had helped him set up directly outside of my front door. Locals had shown him my bathroom and shower and told him to help himself.

After a few discussions with the visitor, I decided it would be best to avoid him. I learned that this Kiwi has been wandering around the world for many years now, working odd jobs to survive and depending on the kindness of strangers. He proceeded to wander all over the village, performing magic tricks, reading Bible passages and asking for locals to give him mangoes. On Friday, he complaining of being hungry so I gave a few eggs to a friend and asked him to prepare lunch for the man.

He told some strange stories, one of surviving a mountain lion attack on a jogging trail in the USA by wielding a pocket knife and another of his neighbor in Australia attempting to murder him. I got a strange vibe from him and my friends in the village laughed when I complained about the man.

I locked my toilet and shower when I left the village to go play football in town over the weekend intending to send a subtle hint to my uninvited guest. When I returned home, the strange hippie had moved his tent into another yard. I considered myself lucky and hoped the uninvited guest would travel to the next village soon.

And then the disturbing revelations came.

On Monday morning while walking through the village in the early morning, I learned that around 5 or 6 young boys had slept with the strange man in his tent. I informed the parents in the area that is not good to trust one's children with complete strangers. Even if this man is innocent from committing any serious offences, his actions were certainly inappropriate.

I left for town on business only to receive an update via text message yesterday from an angry local. He informed me that the strange visitor had gone swimming naked with the young boys.

Anyhow, maybe this man is an innocent hippie and or maybe he is indeed a child predator, but either way I am returning to the village this afternoon to have the chiefs force him to leave as quickly as possible. If I find out he has abused any of the local kids I will be reporting him to the police immediately.

New Photos

2011-09-23T10:43:00.002+11:00

Click on the link below to see photos from the islands of Futuna, Aneityum, Tanna and Efate

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.564896237009.2053548.75800509&l=b3d36e4249&type=1

Trouble in Paradise

2011-09-14T08:09:00.004+11:00

After completing my holiday tour in the south of Vanuatu, I returned to my village where the locals were in the midst of our latest community scandal. Apparently a young man had been "stealing" another man's wife many times over the past year. To make matters worse, the young philanderer has impregnated the woman he was having an affair with.

The young philanderer has a girlfriend of his own that he has lived with for years- and the couple have a 3 year old child. So it was a shock to the community that this young man was caught cheating on his long-term girlfriend. A boy actually discovered the young man with the other woman in the act somewhere in the dark outskirts of the village.

The young man is from the island of Malekula but lived in my village after he began seeing his local girlfriend years ago. We played on the same football team. The woman he was "stealing" is from our village as well, but her husband is from the island of Tanna, an island that is perhaps unjustly reknowned for fighting as a means of settling disputes.

The man from Tanna was devastated after hearing the news. Especially since his family had adopted the young man from Malekula and provided him with food and shelter, he felt as if his trust had been violated. He along with his brothers marched straight for the boy from Malekula, who had been hiding in another family's kitchen ever since his affair had been exposed the previous night. They dragged him onto the main village road and began beating him.

The man from Tanna and his brothers took turns beating the young man from Malekula. They gave him black eyes and split his lips, blood flowed freely from the young man's nose, ears and around his eyes. Some village boys stopped the fight quickly after it started but found it hard to restrain the man from Tanna who vowed that he wanted to kill the young man.

Later in the afternoon, the head chief of the village held an emergency meeting about the scandal. The young philanderer was fined a cow, kava and mats and around $500 to be paid to the chief's, his girlfriend's family and the man from Tanna whose wife he "stole". The man from Tanna and his brothers were charged $300 each for fighting inside of the community. The "stolen" woman was fined also for being involved in an affair. Finally the chiefs ruled that the young man from Malekula must leave the village with his girlfriend, he would no longer be allowed to live in our community.

I returned to the village the night before the young philanderer's departure. The community threw a large goodbye party for the young man and his girlfriend. It felt strange eating cake and drinking kava in honor of such unusual and uncommendale actions. But then again I am always looking for an excuse to eat cake and drink kava.

Holiday Part II - Futuna

2011-08-31T09:15:00.004+11:00

The island of Futuna does not receive many visitors or tourists. There is no phone service for much of the year, a cargo ship carrying supplies arrives once a year if fortunate and many locals do not speak the national pidgin language of Vanuatu. Instead of warm greetings when arriving in a village, many locals would shuffle off the road at the site of me and small children would cry thinking that they had spotted a "white devil".

The island itself is not typical of Vanuatu. It is an extinct volcano whose steep 600 meter climb juts violently out of the South Pacific. Commuting from one village to the next involves climbing up and down sheer cliff faces of several hundred meters. Going to the garden is very dangerous for locals, should they slip while carrying their heavy bag of manioc, death or serious injury is a possibility.

A project to improve the island's footpaths funded by the goverment has been ongoing since 2004. Railing has been installed shielding pedestrian from trecherous falls, ladders have been bolted in the sides of mountain walls and cement walkways have made access in rounding Futuna much easier. I marveled to see the amount of work involved in upgrading the footpaths on Futuna. Tons and tons of cement has been carried manually up and down mountain sides, as trucks or even horses would be incapable of moving far on this island.

I stayed with the family of my former next door neighbor from Aneityum. After my hosts warmed to me, their shyness gradually faded. The people of Futuna are kind, but complain about the diffulties they face on their island. Kava is sent by plane twice a week to the island and local men fight to have a shell or two. Within 10 minutes of my arrival, old men were inquiring to my young host as whether or not I had tobacco with which to share with them. After informing them that I was not a smoker, they exchanged irritated faces and hobbled offwards, presumably having no more use for me.

Futuna is blessed with very rich aquatic resources. There is not much of a coral reef, rather the ocean drops off to drastic depth close by the island. But selling fish and lobster to the community fisheries project is the main source of income. I ate fish every day on Futuna and left the island with one of the largest lobsters I have ever seen.

It was an interesting 4 night stay. Many good photos from climbing to the very top of the dormant volcano and from the half-day trek around the island. The muscles in my legs definitely ached from the constant climbing, jokingly I referred to the locals as wild "nanny-goats" as people from Futuna share a similar lifestyle to those mountainous animals.

Holiday Part I - Aneityum

2011-08-28T14:25:00.002+11:00

After spending 9 months straight on the island of Efate, I was beginning to become a bit stir crazy. One work project after another left your favorite under-appreciated volunteer craving some rest and relaxation. So to escape from the stresses of work- I decided to take a trip south, to visit Futuna for the first time and to be reunited with old friends on the islands of Aneityum and Tanna.

I travelled to Aneityum first, my previous home for 2 and half years. It felt good to see some familar faces once again, but unfortunately my trip coincided with a time of grieving on the island. A local politician who I knew very well and who was extremely supportive of my work on Aneityum, passed away 2 days before my arrival. This councilor was around 50 years old but had a certain heart condition that left him under strict doctor's orders not to drink alcohol/kava, smoke or eat certain foods. Sadly, over the Independence Day celebration he ignored the doctor's warnings and drank, which many believe caused his stroke. My first few evenings on Aneityum were spent sitting with his relatives in the nakamal, where we shared kava and dinner in rememberance of the late Area Councilor.

A week after the Councilor's passing, 2 other locals died. One mentally challenged ten year old girl whose dress caught on fire in the kitchen and badly burned her and a woman who died during child birth in Port Vila. Needless to say it was a sad time for the island and all the families gathered together again to eat together and mourn for several more days.

Tourism has really increased on the island since my departure. Aneityum was recently cleared as a Port of Entry for yachts entering the country. So 4 or 5 different multi-million dollar yachts were anchored in the main harbor each day. My host father Kolin has undergone training to become a Custom's Officer. Being a genuinely warm person he was often the recipient of a new pair of sunglasses or a hat that generous yachties would give to him.

On the three cruise ship visits that I witnessed during my vacation, a massive P&O cruise liner would dump several thousand tourists on Mystery Island for a few hours. On these days, Kolin would board the ships to give a departure clearance before the cruise liner was permitted to go to the next destination. His visit to the ship allowed him to join the tourists having lunch at the buffet and he would report back to me on what new and interesting "white man" dishes he had sampled that day. I highly recommended he try "pizza" when the next cruise ship visits and he sincerely took note of my sage advice, asking me to repeat the name "pizza" a dozen times until he had the name properly memorized.

It was interesting to observe the cash flow of Australian and New Zealand dollars into the community. 5 years olds would flaunt fresh 20 dollar bills around the village, their share of the earning after a few hours of singing church songs. My friend John's 6 year old son followed me to the store where I was shocked to watch him pull out ten dollars and buy the cookies and lollipops of his choosing.

I ate lots and lots of fresh, delicious fish. Went trolling in a small boat where I spotted the first humpback whales I have ever seen in the wild where and we caught a large wahoo provided us with lunch, dinner and breakfast the following day. Went fishing with a light weight tackle rod my sister and brother-in-saw mailed me and caught 4 large "trevally", a tasty "mustache fish" and a 3 and half foot long, skinny, mysterious looking fish that was also delicious when fried. I ate lobster and turtle and sat down at many a meal that old friends had prepared especially for me.

We walked around the island sleeping in the more remote Port Patrick for several days. Local chiefs had recently lifted a ban on fishing in certain areas of the reef. The fish in these areas were not afraid of people as they are in other places. John was able to use his casting net to walk right up to large schools of blue fish. Within a half hour on the reef we collected a basket full of fish and giant clams that difficult to carry back to the familes that were hosting us.

In the village of Umej I was reunited with my old dog Superman, who looked relatively healthy and happy with the exception of having only one eye now. A boy who was angry with Superman's new owner stabbed my former dog in the eye with his knife. Thankfully, Superman's new family took issue with this abuse and the boy was heavily fined by the chief.

Mobile phones have been introduced since my departure from the island as well. It felt odd watching locals use them in a place that had previously been serene and devoid of noisy ring tones. Now most teenagers stare at phones and text incessantly as they strut around the village.

Anyhow it was a good trip and 2 weeks went by too quickly. Will write about my short trip to Futuna for my next entry. Currently, I am on an island called Tanna which has a small shopping district that could perhaps technically qualify for a town. Will be heading into Middle Bush for a few days to see some old friends but will post again on my return.

Lukim yu...

50th Anniversary DVD

2011-07-14T08:59:00.003+11:00

In early February of this year, I was asked to join a committee of volunteers and staff that would be organizing the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps. Every Peace Corps country around the world received around $5000 each, to spend in a manner of their own choosing to commemorate the big anniversary. So being a part our Peace Corps Vanuatu committee, I proposed we make a DVD using local artists to promote the work of volunteers within the country.

Working with a local friend that is a cameraman, we arranged interviews in numerous villages, collected photos and videos from volunteers all over the islands, paid for local bands to record songs at studios in town and then shot their music videos. So I have been very busy the past few weeks putting in the final touches, editing into the late nights to make sure we were ready for the 4th of July launch date...

Anyhow, we will be posting the entire video on YouTube throughout the next few weeks. Here are the links for the first four segments for your viewing pleasure...

Whale Vomit

2011-06-06T08:08:00.002+11:00

Ambergris or "whale vomit" is highly sought after here in Vanuatu and some businessmen offer large sums of money to locals who luckily stumble upon the substance in coastal areas. It is hard to recognize as "whale vomit" is undistinguishable from stones to the untrained eye. The first time I saw a notice on the island offering cash payment for "whale vomit", I was highly amused to say the least, assuming that it had to be some sort of practical joke.

The following content below comes from Wikipedia:

Ambergris occurs as the secretion of the intestines of the sperm whale and can be found floating upon the sea, or in the sand near the coast. It is also sometimes found in the abdomens of whales. Because the beaks of giant squids have been found embedded within lumps of ambergris, scientists have theorised that the substance is produced by the whale's gastrointestinal tract to ease the passage of hard, sharp objects that the whale might have eaten.

Ambergris is usually passed in the fecal matter. Ambergris that forms a mass too large to be passed through the intestines is expelled via the mouth, leading to the reputation of ambergris as primarily coming from whale vomit. Ambergris can be found in the Atlantic Ocean and on the coasts of Brazil, Madagascar, the East Indies, the Maldives, China, Japan, India, Australia, New Zealand and the Molucca islands. Most commercially collected ambergris comes from the Bahamas in the Caribbean, particularly New Providence

Ambergris has been mostly known for its use in creating perfume and fragrance much like musk. While perfumes can still be found with ambergris around the world, American perfumers usually avoid it because of legal ambiguities. It was banned from use in many countries in the 1970s, including the United States, because its precursor originates from the sperm whale, which is an endangered species. However, it has been legal since 2005 because of strict monitoring of distributors who ensure that only ambergris that has been naturally washed to shore is sold.

Ancient Egyptians burned ambergris as incense, while in modern Egypt ambergris is used for scenting cigarettes. The ancient Chinese called the substance "dragon's spittle fragrance". During the Black Death in Europe, people believed that carrying a ball of ambergris could help prevent them from getting the plague. This was because the fragrance covered the smell of the air which was believed to be the cause of plague. This substance has also been used historically as a flavouring for food, and some people consider it an aphrodisiac. During the Middle Ages, Europeans used ambergris as a medication for headaches, colds, epilepsy, and other ailments.

The Poison Crusade and Youth Camp

2011-06-05T10:18:00.005+11:00

I ran a youth leadership camp this week with the help of 5 other Peace Corps Volunteers. 29 girls and 18 boys from two nearby villages attended the youth camp for 3 days. There were lessons and activities covering topics such as leadership development, decision making, gender equality, planning and goal-setting, healthy relationships, diabetes, STI's and family planning.

Throughout the camp there were sport, game and worship sessions- so that workshop participants did not sit glassy-eyed inside of a classroom all day. We volunteers ate and slept at the local Primary School with the youth as well, allowing us get to know all of the boys and girls.

Anyhow, holding a camp of this sort requires a lot of planning. Throughout the past few weeks I had been rallying community support at local church meetings and on village work days, raising money for food and workshop supplies, and recruiting volunteers to assist with transport, collecting firewood, providing sleeping / toilet / shower arrangements, donating food and cooking, etc. After weeks of planning, I felt comfortably prepared for the start of the workshop.

And as these things often go, my careful planning was tossed to the wayside with the unscheduled arrival of a pastor and 200 of his loyal followers who I refer to as the Poison Crusade. This "pastor" is from a northern island and his specialty is finding poison, or black magic. It is believed by many that through prayer and a strong connection to the Holy Spirit, this pastor can find black magic artifacts deposited by ill-intentioned locals. His arrival to my village 2 days before the start of my youth workshop meant that the community had the burden of another 200 mouths to feed daily in the addition to 70 I had been planning to host for weeks.

We had to find new accommodation, food supplies and a workshop venue all at the last possible moment. Things were very hectic but a large portion of my community really bent over backwards to make our camp successful. The Minister of Youth and Sport came and presented soccer uniforms and balls to the boys at the closing ceremony and a very popular politician who is currently the Minister of Justice came to present certificates as well. I was happy with the turnout even though it felt like we were competing with the Poison Crusade throughout much of the youth camp.

The Poison Crusade blares loud religious music through an amped up sound system until midnight each night and then a loud bell begins morning prayer at 3:30 AM when the sound system is turned on again until 6 AM each morning. Apparently it is believed that praying in the dark hours of the early morning and at loud decibels is more efficient than praying in the daytime. My house is located in the middle of all of the madness where the caravan of trucks park and additional hundreds from outside villages commute in for evening praise services, where the pastor perform miraculous acts of healing on the sick.

The youth workshop was located nearby the Poison Crusade so obviously we did not sleep very well over the 3 days. Many boys who should have attended the workshop were lured in to attending the Poison Crusade, possibly because it provided them a chance to hit on the many teenage girls visiting the praise service each evening.

The Poison Crusade is still underway and is scheduled for at least another 5 nights. I escaped this early morning and plan to work here in town on some unfinished projects until its completion. But ending on a good-note... the pastor sniffed around my house yesterday and confirmed that my abode is poison-free, so at least I can sleep soundly upon my return!

Delicious Insects

2011-05-21T09:06:00.002+11:00

This large insect, which looks like a cross between a praying mantis and a walking stick, is appreciated a sweet tasting delicacy by the rural population of Vanuatu. While I have tasted roasted grubs and beetles, the thought of handling, let alone eating this bug frightens me to no end.

Missing Aneityum Man

2011-05-20T13:31:00.001+11:00

The man chopping meat in the photo above has been missing on Aneityum for over three weeks now. It is assumed he is dead now. He was a very familiar face in my village and the entire community is mourning his loss now.

He was last seen drinking kava in the main village of Anelcauhat. After drinking a few shells, he stopped by a local store and bought a can of soda before beginning his 30 minute walk home. The walk to his house is an easy walk, following a sandy beach the entire way. Other men who left the nakamal that night and followed the same path saw no sign of him.

The following day his children became worried when he did not show up. Some villagers believed that perhaps he slept in another house whilst drunk or got up very early before sunrise and went to the garden. One full day passed before some village children found the missing man's pants, with his mobile phone and over $80 in the pocket, along with the unopened can of soda by the side of the river.

It is assumed that he took off his clothes to swim in the river before continuing his walk home. There are some deep pools in the river, but the main crossing is only knee deep. Anyhow, there are theories that perhaps the kava effected him especially hard when he started swimming and he drowned, his body being swept out to sea. Or perhaps that he had a heart attack or stroke. Or even that someone murdered him using black magic.

The community searched for his body, diving in the sea and searching in the bush for 2 and a half weeks. No trace of his body was found. The community formally sat down and started grieving for his loss last week. Only his sons continue searching for his remains.

Snake Rope

2011-05-12T08:41:00.002+11:00

A woman in my village has become very sick. Instead of going to the doctor in town, her family has taken other forms of action. She has been moved temporarily into the house of a villager known for having strong healing powers of prayer. "Filipino healing crystals," which were probably purchased at one of Port Vila's Chinese stores, are rubbed over her body daily. A older man made custom medicine for her with a special leaf from the bush which was ground into a paste and applied to her skin.

The villagers believe she is sick because someone violated an old taboo by cutting or disturbing "snake rope." Snake rope is a type of vine that grows in the bush. It gnarls and twists and turns and winds its way from the the forest floor to the jungle canopy like a snake, hence the name. Snake rope often grows where bodies are buried or where sacred custom rituals were performed, according to the locals.

Cutting snake rope with your bush knife does not always result in sickness however. If the coastal waters are at low-tide, the "devils" around the snake rope will be down on the reef collecting food. But at high-tide, the devils are around the snake rope and will cause illness and possibly kill anyone who should disturb them.

The symptoms are often swelling of the limbs, head, soreness of the body and red eyes.

Anyhow thought it would be interesting to share their beliefs. I often stress that even if locals want to pray or use custom medicine, it is still good to visit the doctor and see if "white man medicine" can help at all.

Hornets

2011-05-11T08:07:00.002+11:00

In Vanuatu, we fear the tropical hornet when working in the gardens or walking through the bush. Should you disturb their carefully guarded nests, often a group of hornets will sting you without mercy. I have only suffered their wrath on one occasion- and that was enough.

Notice Jimmy's swollen left eye, the result of a painful hornet sting.

When locals encounter them in the garden, they often light a fire on the spot and smoke the hornets out before destroying their nest.

New Project! Please support...

2011-04-27T12:30:00.004+11:00

Hello avid blog-readers! Sorry for the prolonged delay in posting, but the tropical lifestyle affects one’s sense of punctuality. Here in Vanuatu, we say that things get done in “Black man time,” which is far from politically correct yet an appropriate term here on the islands.

Anyhow, I want to update any friends and family members (or perhaps generous strangers) reading this about a building project I am working on at the moment. The plan is twofold:

#1- We are repairing a woman’s meeting house and turning it into a community guest house, which will be managed by the village momma’s. The mommas currently do not use the house much because there is no masonite to shield them from the heat radiating down from the copper roofing on sunny days. The windows and doors are broken, the rain tank has fallen apart and wooden posts supporting the structure of the house have rotted. Once we have enough funding we will completely repair the building and provide the momma’s with a great way to earn an income with the first guest house of its kind built in our area.

#2- The adjoining community center (or nakamal) is too small to shelter every villager during weekly community meetings and occasional events held in the village. Women are often excluded from meetings as a result. So villagers have already started a massive effort of expanding the building. There is no lighting inside though and locals often end up meeting in the dark. With project funding we will provide a solar light system to power the entire community center.

This project will make a big impact on the lives of the villagers who I have embraced as friends and family. Donations can be made online via credit card on the Peace Corps website.

The link is:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=461-045

Even a small contribution will be appreciated. Thank you for you support!

(Below: Village mommas that will benefit from the guest house, and the community center expansion underway... Notice the dozen or so villagers hoisting a very heavy hardwood support beam in place!)

Rat Murderer

2011-04-02T14:37:00.002+11:00

Islands in the South Pacific are teeming with rats. They are not really the dirty rats associated with urbans sprawl, these rats live in the dense bush and feed on ripe fruit and food from the gardens. Call them island rats. But that does not make them more enjoyable when they decide to move into your home. When I initially moved into my new home I had at least a dozen rats as roommates. Normally they waited until I was nearly asleep before they started their rat wrestling matches above my ceiling or rat tap dancing on the copper, gnawing on wood behind my wall or knocking over dishes in the kitchen just to annoy me. Repairing the holes to the outside walls of my house, a liberal sprinkling of rat poison and a tiny kitten eliminated the problem for a few months. But throughout this past week, irritating squeaks and gnawing noises have disturbed my sleep at 4 AM like clock work every morning. At 4 AM, I generally lack the resolve to get up and do anything about the noises. But the day before yesterday was different. The rats had gone too far. At 430, armed with a flashlight and machete, I murdered 2 rats that I trapped in my bedroom. Had there been any witnesses, doubtless they would have been entertained by lifting up random objects around the room, having a large rodent dart out lightening fast, me squeal like a girl and stab at it wildly with my machete. Death by a machete is not a pretty way to die, I should mention- and cleaning up the evidence was not a fun way to start my morning. But at least the gnawing noises will no longer disturb my sleep. For a few more months....

The Pig Man

2011-03-26T11:55:00.000+11:00

The following story is believed by a wide audience in my village. If Peace Corps has taught me anything, it is how to nod along to an out-of-this-world story and pretend like it may be feasible.

A married couple from the island of Paama had tried for many years to conceive but were never fortunate enough to have a child. They did however own a pig.

The pig was a woman pig and it became pregnant. When the pig was about to give birth, it ran away from the house but the married couple followed the pig closely. It went to a large stone and hid underneath it in a deep burrow. The married couple stood outside of the burrow and listened as the pig was delivering its litter.

The woman wanted to see how many piglets the mother pig delivered, so she lit a bundle of dry coconut leaves. She and the man peered down the burrow with their coconut leaf torch but were shocked to see a baby boy! The man used a long, curved tree branch to slowly pry the child out of the pig's burrow. Needless to say, the mother pig was upset that the married couple was trying to steal the human boy it had just given birth to. But the man proceeded to carry the new born infant and wrap it in dry banana leaves. An angry mother pig followed the married couple home as it brought back the baby boy to their house.

Anyhow, long story short- this pig is believed to have magically given birth to a boy (who just recently passed away leaving behind many children). According to custom, this man comes from the traditional line of the wild pig, so it is almost logical to some locals for this phenomenon to have occurred.

I inquired if this man and his family ate pig and was told yes, that they do indeed eat pig. Seems sort of wrong to dine on one's potential relatives though.

Bible Church Pastor

2011-03-18T11:50:00.002+11:00

The pastor of the "Bible Church" in my village was recently caught in a scandal. This particular pastor is notorious for his brimstone and hellfire sermons, delivered at high volumes while occasionally hitting copper roofing and nearby objects to ensure the attention of the congregation is focused on him at all times. Once I had the extreme pleasure of watching this pastor draw a diagram on a chalkboard showing God and the congregation, and putting his name in the middle as the necessary go-between for all worshippers wishing to communicate with God.

Bible Church does not allow its followers to drink alcohol or kava, although it is rumored that before religion transformed this particular pastor, he was the leading drunkard of his community. The church is based upon the premiss that God has blessed some of the congregation with prophetic powers- and visions and dreams are shared by four or five of the Bible Church prophets every Sunday. Often the dreams detail fish eating other fish or scenes from the garden, which are then translated by the pastor to explain God's message for the congregation.

Anyhow, the pastor was recently caught stealing church money, over $2,500 over the past year, which is quite a bit here. He was forced to submit a letter of resignation and will supposedly have to find a job in Port Vile to repay what money he has misused. Personally I am not very surprised. Just goes to show you that those who speak the loudest are not always speaking from the heart.

Japanese Disaster

2011-03-17T07:39:00.002+11:00

The recent earthquake and tsunami that rocked Japan had little effect on Vanuatu. Most of the South Pacific was under a tsunami advisory warning after the disaster, but thankfully we were unharmed.

I was in the capital Port Vila, enjoying an evening by the Sea Front, which is a public park bordering Vila Harbor when concerned locals from my village began calling me around 8 PM. They had heard the news over the radio and began calling to ask my opinion as to whether or not they should evacuate to a higher elevation. After about 6 phone calls, I decided I should probably go to the Peace Corps office and check it out.

At the office, I found news about the tsunami warning online and then heard the Vanuatu Meteorology Department issue a warning until 1 AM specifically for Vanuatu, so I called my village and relayed the information. Almost everyone hiked into the bush and spent the night camping out on hill tops far away from the ocean.

I spent the night in town at a friends house also located safely away from sea. 1 AM came and went without any noticeable events, the ocean current became very strong, but no lives were lost here.

My soccer team was very tired the next day when we played our match in town because all of the players had slept poorly in the bush. But sleepiness is a pretty fair price to pay for one's safety I suppose...

The break-in

2011-03-11T08:54:00.002+11:00

An organized group of thieves recently started breaking into occupied homes in a neighborhood of Port Vila called "Fresh Wota". They steal valuables while the household sleeps, unaware of their presence. It is rumored that they smoke marijuana until fearless, use kastom magic that makes the household residents sleep deeply and then cut window screens and remove glass louvres to enter homes and search for money and other goods. Buses and trucks help them transport stolen goods in the night.

On Wednesday, a 23 year old man who caught the group stealing in his home was stabbed to death with a machete when he confronted the thieves.

I slept on the outskirts of Fresh Wota on Friday night, with a relative of my host mother from the village. I assumed the house would be safe because it is occupied by a professional boxer who has represented Vanuatu fighting in Korea and the Philippines. Discussing the recent crime wave during the day time with him, he informed me that luckily, there had never been any theft in his yard over the past years.

That night I came back from a work function at midnight and went to sleep. The doors of the house were locked upon my arrival. At 3 AM, I was startled from my sleep by a woman's screams. Sleeping deeply, I was very confused. It took around 30 seconds for me to stir as I lay in bed listening, wondering whether the couple I was staying with were having a domestic fight or perhaps if some news had come that a relative had passed away. Alarmed, I arose and opened my bedroom door.

The woman of the house was screaming frantically. She had slept out in the main sitting room, as she and her daughter had been watching television until my late night return and then decided to sleep where they were. She pointed to the window, where the screen had been cut open and the window louvres had been removed. The boxer also had slept deeply and arose from his bedroom at around the same time.

She told us both that she had been awoken by someone using a small flashlight inside of the sitting room. She assumed that it was me, trying to find my way to the bathroom, even though this person was wearing a camouflage jacket, long pants and a hat. She was still half asleep herself and not thinking clearly. The man searched around the room and then opened the bedroom door where her husband, the professional boxer, was sleeping inside. The woman thought that maybe I was drunk and had gone to the wrong bedroom by mistake. When she noticed the intruder go behind the door where a hunting rifle was located, she then knew for certain that the man was a thief and not myself. She began to scream.

The man calmly carried the rifle, stepped over the screaming woman and walked out the back door. He then escaped into the early morning darkness. We called the police at 3:30 AM and they arrived around 9 AM to file a small report. Pretty hair-raising experience for us all considering how a similar incident had resulted in someone's death two days earlier. I am thankful that no one in the house was harmed and also that the thief chose to enter the adjacent bedroom and not my own, where my backpack containing a laptop computer and my wallet were located!

Anyhow, even though Vanuatu is relatively safer than most countries, including the USA, it has its own problems as well.

Ponani on Efate

2011-01-30T10:19:00.002+11:00

"Ponani" is the holiday activity held the first few weeks of January every year in Vanuatu. Families or entire villages form groups that travel around by invitation to perform religious songs in honor of the new year. Baby powder is doused liberally on performers, drunken men often circle the group shouting loud inebriated exclamations like "HOORAY" and "HAPPY NEW YEAR" and gifts such as rice, soap and money are given to the Ponani group as a thank you.

I had experienced "Ponani" on Aneityum, but on Efate, it is a much different experience all together.

On Aneityum, family groups perform local language songs together, led by a a guitar gently strumming along while young boys and girls harmonize. It is relatively peaceful with the occasional outburst of a drunken man interrupting the songs.

On Efate, Ponani has transformed entirely. Here, villagers do not stop at baby powder. Flour mixed with water is poured over heads, which clings to your hair and it is impossible to get out without submerging yourself in water. Bright red and blue dye is thrown on faces leaving near permanent stains, which are visible for days afterwards. Grease from trucks, dirty engine oil, ripe papayas mashed up, paint, mud- it is all fair game.

I joined the Ponani group from my village and we traveled by truck on several different late nights and sang all over North and East Efate. In the village of Ekipe, some children even decided to use cow poop as a weapon and smeared it across my right leg. Many boys wore sunglasses to cover their eyes from the irritating baby powder and mommas tried their best to cover their hair with calico cloth. Anyhow, it was an enjoyable few nights but I could have done without the cow excrement.

When one Ponani group performs and is doused with grease and paint- the singers remember well and return the favor whenever that village sends its Ponani group in exchange. It is like a never-ending cycle of retaliation mixed with Christmas carols...

Cyclone Vania

2011-01-15T11:58:00.001+11:00

Cyclone Vania recently hit Vanuatu and made for an interesting couple of days here. The preparation for hurricanes in the South Pacific is much different from what takes place in the USA. When the local radio stations begin to issue warnings and storm advisories, many local people refuse to believe that a cyclone would actually affect them. Church going villagers said that God would not possibly send a hurricane their direction because they are faithful Christians. Others saw clear skies and doubted the possibility that conditions could change quickly. Some villagers observed signs in the bush, such as the flight patterns of birds and the direction that banana shoots had grown and either negated or confirmed the storm warnings.

Often, locals do not begin to prepare until gale force winds actually arrive. This was the case in my village. When the winds picked up to around 40 mph, villagers began to climb on their houses to nail down copper sheeting or fasten coconut leaves over their palm leaf roofs.

We started receiving storm warnings for a tropical depression Monday that gradually strengthened to a Category 2 cyclone by Thursday. The copper roofing on my home had not been nailed down, instead pieces of timber were fastened on top- so on Monday I requested that villagers help me nail down the roofing. I was promised that a villager would show up Tuesday or Wednesday to help me, which never happened.

By Wednesday, most of the villagers believed that the storm had gone south and that we would not experience high winds. This was not the case. I did not sleep Wednesday night and early Thursday morning due to unsecured copper roofing slamming up and down on my roof top. At midnight, I climbed on my roof to take down two solar panels. At 3 AM, two pieces of roofing flew off in a major gust and I had to climb up once again to move a piece of copper from my front porch area to cover the gaping hole over my living room where the rain was streaming in. I spent a breathless five minutes on the roof working quickly, afraid that a tree top or rusty flying object would decapitate me.

Luckily one did not.

Anyhow, we made out pretty well on Efate in the long run. Just a few damaged homes and many fallen trees. Further south on Aneityum, the winds were much worse.

Sick Moon

2010-12-18T09:08:00.002+11:00

"Sick moon" is the term in Bislama for the time a woman has her period or menstruates. A woman's period is regarded as a sickness by much of the local population, even today.

Traditionally on Aneityum, locals built special houses to shelter women going through their periods. Women would gather together, cook for themselves and sleep in the house until their period ended. Today women are still not allowed to cook for others or handle food during their sick moon. If you observe the man of the household cooking, this is often the reason why. Some women still leave their home during their "sick moon" and go sleep with relatives.

One of the oldest villagers on Aneityum is in his mid-nineties now. He credits his longevity to roasting all of his food traditionally over a fire and never allowing his wife to handle his food.

Flies and Mosquitos

2010-11-20T09:56:00.001+11:00

Probably the worst aspect of life in the South Pacific is having to cope with the constant aerial assaults inflicted by flies and mosquitoes.

Flies are everywhere. Literally. They swarm in multitudes so vast that even the most ambitious dare not attempt to reduce their numbers with a fly swatter. Instead we learn to ignore the flies as they crawl all over our bodies. Open sores and scrapes are fly magnets specifically. Should you find yourself without a band-aid, it is best to fasten a leaf over your sore to block the flies. Most of time I do not flinch now, unless the flies should brazenly trespass into my inner ears or my mouth. Then I will instinctively go into a sort of mini-spasm and try to utter something appropriately profane. Food must be guarded by waving a leaf or hand constantly over your plate.

Mosquitos are the real masochists. They feed at all hours of the day, especially during the rainy season. Bug spray works at times, but who wants to be constantly coated in toxic chemicals? Mosquito coils are lit to ward off the enemy, but inhaling the fumes leaves me feeling sick. Sleeping in a mosquito net is a must, but sometimes they penetrate the inner sanctuary of the net as well. When this happens, a harsh buzzing in one's ear will surely spoil a good night's sleep- especially when it is accompanied by a thorough slap to the side of the face when attempting to render the evil mosquito lifeless.

November 2010

2010-11-19T08:10:00.001+11:00

All is well here on Efate.

Work is good but somewhat frustrating. The villagers all seem to like me but the project I am working on is complicated. An aid agency that funded our project initially told my village there would be $150,000 worth of funding. Then the funding mysteriously cut in half- I think around $70,000 actually came to Vanuatu. This money was to fund seven months worth of work for the village, clearing some bush to plant mahogany, white wood and sandalwood trees. A community tree nursery was to be funded and an environmental buffer zone was to be set up, planting indigenous trees along a river to prevent erosion and improve the quality of drinking water. About $30,000 worth of funding is unaccounted for now and two provincial government employees have been fired for "mismanagement."

So with a budget of $30,000 the village attempted to finish all of the required work in three months instead of seven. About 50 % of the work remains to be completed yet government employees showed up last week to announce that the project is officially closed and the funding is now finished.

So anyhow, it is interesting but frustrating to see how local government and even aid agencies mismanage and even steal from poor villages. Not a new story for Vanuatu though. I try to stay positive and organize villagers to march 45 minutes up the steep hillsides to work at the project site, joining them with my machete until my hand is blistered and raw from clearing brush.

Aside from that head ache, I have other work to keep me busy. I will helping my counterpart, the Area Secretary, to travel to different villages in his district and survey the needs of the people, then make a strategic plan of how to use government funds to assist their communities.

I have joined my village soccer team and will be playing in the town league. The local string band wants to make a music DVD and I have agreed to record their next album and assist with filming. Much of my time is devoted to killing rats and roaches that lurk around my new house. I should have solar power in the near future- spent a good chunk of my living allowance on a battery and regulator recently. The villagers have made a list of the entire community- and each day I have breakfast, lunch and dinner with a new family. It was their idea and it is a good way for me to get to know everyone (even if I do miss having more control over my own diet).

That's all for now....

The Move to Efate

2010-11-03T10:53:00.003+11:00

My life has been quite hectic lately. Lot of stories from my trip to Tanna, the Toka ceremony and my last month on Aneityum but I am finding it difficult to compress it all into a blog posting. I think I need a few years to digest all of the recent activity in my life before I can write about it. Maybe I'll write a book when I am middle-aged.

I am moving out to my new home in North Efate today. The communities there seem to be genuinely excited to have a Peace Corps Volunteer. I am happy about my new assignment but at the same time I feel like a traitor to the outer islanders having left my old province.

Yesterday I went to the SHEFA provincial government office and was introduced to dozens of politicians and leaders, most of whose names were cleansed from my memory seconds after shaking hands with them. My new co-workers are a little flashier than what I am used to. They dress professionally, with collared shirts and dress shoes, shiny watches and sunglasses, exchanging witty banter in English to one another. They have more funding and access to aid money- and my new counterpart says they may even provide a solar power system for me along with a bicycle. Today they are transporting me to site in an expensive new pickup truck.

Much different from the simple island setup I had before on Aneityum and it feels a little uncomfortable now, but I'm sure I'll adjust. I'm also in the presence of more Westerners than I am used to and having access to a mobile phone feels strange.

My new job description involves assisting a community forestry nursery, community gardens, protecting conservation areas from unauthorized development by squatters and unscrupulous business men, assisting business development with village councils, and improving water supply systems in 6 different villages. Seems ambitious but I will try my best to assist my new community.

Anyhow- I won't be in town for a little while, I want to take some time to get to know these new villagers and settle in my home. Catch up with you all when I can...

Photos

2010-11-01T09:36:00.003+11:00

I have officially left my site on Aneityum and will be based on the island of Efate now. It was hard saying goodbye to the friends and families that I have lived with for the past two years.

The following link contains photos from my last few weeks in TAFEA province, including photos from the Toka ceremony on Tanna that I recently went to...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2044921&id=75800509&l=24c623dac6

White Sands

2010-09-24T15:10:00.001+11:00

The Toka ceremony on Tanna was postponed for a week by the local chiefs, so this gave me some extra time to explore the island. I decided to go visit a remote area located directly next to the Mt. Yassur volcano called White Sands.

I left "Black Man Town" or Lenekel, the provincial capital, on a pickup truck owned by a local tourist operation. I rode in the back of the truck wedged in between tourist suitcases and bags of rice and local produce, inhaling a steady stream of dust and gyrating along at high speeds on a very bumpy road. I was in the back corner of the cab, where I firmly gripped onto railing along the right hand side, in case the abused latch in the back should give way. A girl from Aneityum, her grandmother and the girl's week-old infant sat on a bench directly in front of me bouncing along. It was a precarious way to travel with a new born child, the grandmother gripped onto the truck railing with one hand and shielded the bundled baby in her bosom with the other. She had asked the local man in the front passenger seat to change places with her so the baby could sit safely inside. The man refused. Having waited two hours in the hot sun already, they decided to jump on the truck anyway in order to reach White Sands before nightfall. Three French tourists sat inside the truck in the back seat, clicking their cameras out the window as we sped along.

The truck dropped us off at the road leading to White Sands instead of taking us to directly to the village itself. I paid the driver for our fares and successfully refrained from directing obscene language in his direction. The truck sped off and left us in middle of the volcano's shadeless ash plain, the hot sun ray's reflecting upwards from the black ash. Luckily, I had packed lightly throwing only a few shirts in my pack, so I was able to carry the heavy suitcase and luggage for the grandmother and young girl. The baby cried several times as we walked the remaining five kilometers, pausing under the occasional banyan tree so she could breast feed.

The grateful grandmother led me to where I would be staying after we dropped off her granddaughter. The pastor of the local Presbyterian Church is from Aneityum, his son John is my good friend and neighbor. Pastor Fred and his wife welcomed me to their modest home, whose wooden floors had been demolished decades ago by Hurricane Ursa and rebuilt with the same timber. I slept there for four nights.

The White Sands area is so close to the volcano that the ground shakes day night as Mt Yassur sends mounds of spewing lava rocketing up to 100 meters into the air. The locals are used to it. I certainly was not. The volcano is not currently very active but it was earlier in the year when tourists were forbidden from climbing to the summit and White Sands was covered by falling ash. I had the pleasure of shoveling out grimy ash and muck that had accumulated in the pastor's uncovered rain tank over the past six month with a group of church elders. When the rain tank was cleaned, we filled it with water for the pastor to use for bucket showers.

A group of us hiked to the summit of Mount Yassur one night and drank kava on top, watching the fiery embers shoot into the night sky. It was my second visit, but the first time I had traversed on top by foot.

Being so close to the volcano, the locals have a very hard time growing food. The soil is terrible. A few months ago, a new water supply project opened up, piping water to White Sands from miles away. Before that, taking a bath consisted of walking a mile down to the ocean to swim in hot springs that are only accessible at low tide.

Anyway, White Sands is far different from Aneityum and it was interesting to see the local work ethic and perseverance the people show in such hard circumstances. Pastor Fred wants to receive a Peace Corps Volunteer for the White Sands community, so I am in the process of trying to help him apply for one.

Will be staying in Middle Bush with a fellow volunteer until Sunday when the Toka ceremony begins in South Tanna...

Toka

2010-09-15T09:36:00.001+11:00

No internet on Aneityum so I have been out of touch with the world for a while. Sorry. Many interesting stories to tell, perhaps I will get the chance to share some soon. I am well.

Getting ready to witness a custom ceremony on the island of Tanna called Toka. Toka is the largest custom ceremony here and is regarded as a must-see spectacle. Every four or five years, the island of Tanna hosts an especially large Toka ceremony- and it just so happens that 2010 will be such a year. Villagers from all over the island will gather by the thousands and perform custom dances over a 24 hour period.

The ground will literally shake as the custom dancers stomp their feet in unison to the ritual dance and the air will vibrate as locals bellow out their custom songs, just as their ancestors have done for centuries now.

The locals will paint their faces with brightly hued colors, dress up in custom garb and colorful rooster tail feathers will add a finishing accent to their hair.

Apparently in the past, men and women, even those that were married or in committed relationships, were allowed to sneak off in bush and spend the night with any love interest of their choosing. This is not so much the case today but many young people take advantage of the ceremony to be promiscuous. In the morning as the sun rises, hundreds and hundreds of pigs are sacrificed to make amends for in sins that transpired in the evening. Kava is plentiful to say the least.

Anyhow, should be an interesting sight. Will be sure to take lots of photos...

Independence Day

2010-07-26T08:00:00.002+11:00

Vanuatu celebrates its 30th year of independence on July 30th. It is an occasion of great importance to the people here, as bitter memories of the joint British / French condominium governments are still fresh in their minds.

There used to be two school systems, police forces, codes of law, pay scales for government workers- among other things, as the the French and British wrestled for control of "New Hebrides" (as Vanuatu was referred to). This was a very jumbled and confused method to govern a nation. During this time, rural villages were famously exploited as foreigners came and acquired land for next to nothing. The rights of local Ni-Vanuatu were second to those of the British and French.

Racism was rampant here and the color of one's skin decided where one fell among the pay scale. Lighter-skinned locals who were bi-racial made a significant amount of extra income over their darker counterparts.

A movement arose among the people and famous Ni-Vanuatu leaders began to demand independence. The British and French both imported a large military presence just in case the struggle for independence turned violent.

Eventually, the British began to recognize that the native peoples had a right to a sovereign nation, but the French government resisted all along the way. The French supplied weapons such as hand grenades and machine guns among local French supporters and attempted to incite civil unrest. Luckily, these weapons were not used to their full potential and rather just caused a panic as unruly mobs fired them into the night air.

On the island of Santo, steel drums were placed on the airport landing strip so military planes could not land with troops and challenge the independence movement.

Anyhow, the majority of the struggle for independence was non-violent and the local population eventually prevailed over the British and French in 1980. British and French citizens were allowed to leave the country with all of their possessions and money, but all of the land titles that they held were reclaimed in the name of local peoples.

New Hebrides was re-named Vanuatu, which means "Our Land." The people are referred to as Ni-Vanuatu, which means "Belonging to Our Land."

New Mailing Address

2010-07-18T22:37:00.003+11:00

Do you want to write me? Do you want to send me care packages filled with delicious cookies and aromatic cigars? I know you do....

Even though I will not leave Aneityum for another 3 months, considering how long it takes for mail to reach me, I will update you all on my new address now. Please send any new mail here now:

Matthew Hardwick

Peace Corps Vanuatu

PMB 9097

Port Vila

Vanuatu

South Pacific

Canoe Video

2010-07-17T07:27:00.002+11:00

Here is a video of my host brother Demo paddling us in an outrigger canoe. We had just gone fishing, caught 2 "long mouths", on the north side of the island and were heading back to the shore where some hungry kids were eagerly awaiting a fish fry...

I don't get to the northern part of the island often, it is remote and not very populated. But I wish I did, because it is gorgeous there!

Ples blong Fis

2010-07-13T00:21:00.004+11:00

(Rita stands on the edge of the shelf reef while fishing with a bamboo rod)

(Rita's colorful catch)

Aneityum is often referred to as the "Peles blong Fis" by outsiders, which means "Place of the Fish." In comparison to other islands, we are blessed with a decent supply of fish on our coral reefs. Having a small population on the island helps prevent over-harvesting, at least for now.

Island chiefs or heads of family are allowed to "block" any section of the island from fishing. If they notice the fish supply starting to dwindle in a given area, they will order that special timbers be erected on the reef to indicate that fishing is prohibited in the area. Locals have been practicing this system of resource management for countless years.

The pictures above show Rita, an avid young fisherwoman at the place where I normally go to fish. Locals use home-made fishing poles with short lines and tiny hooks. Crab or octopus are normally the baits of choice for fish from the coral reef. I enjoy fishing here, you never know what kind of brightly hued fish you might pull out of the water next.

Extreme caution must be practiced before eating fish from a coral reef. There is a type of poisoning called ciguatera, which comes from eating the wrong variety of fish. This poisoning can be fatal, but most often it just severely weakens a person for weeks at a time. It has strange effects on the nervous system too. I have heard volunteers describe it as one of the worst experiences of their life; whenever they felt a warm object- it felt freezing cold to them, and when they touched a cold object, it felt scorching hot. Anyhow the poison comes from the reef itself, the fish contract it by eating all of the tiny animals that thrive there. It is confusing, because sometimes a certain variety of fish will be safe in one area and then in another place, it will have the poison.

On Aneityum, the locals have a pretty extensive knowledge about which fish to eat. So I just follow their lead and have stayed poison-free to this day. Although sometimes locals do make mistakes, and I have seen poison fish victims carried to clinic writhing in pain.

Public Courtship / Romance- Vanuatu Style

2010-07-07T01:08:00.003+11:00

(A letter to the editor of a Vanuatu newspaper- very good at detailing the relationship between men and women here.)

One of the more subtle – but interesting – developments over the last several years in Vanuatu is the rise of public courtship. When I first arrived in Vanuatu some years ago, I was struck by the fact that one would see obvious signs of affection between people of the same sex, but rarely did these gestures cross the gender gap.

This is more or less the inverse of what one sees in Western societies, and in fact the sight of two men or two women holding hands has led more than one visitor to mistakenly conclude that Vanuatu is particularly tolerant of homosexuality. (It’s not much better or worse than many other societies in this regard.)

Don’t get me wrong, now: Love has played a part in human relations here for... well, forever. It’s just it wasn’t generally the decisive factor in marriage. Courtship, such as it was, consisted more of sober negotiation in the nakamal between the families of prospective partners.

The two partners themselves might or might not get along, but their feelings for one another were often of secondary importance to the community’s interests. As often as not, love was actually a complicating factor, because it didn’t always occur within the bonds of matrimony.

But the biggest stumbling block, as far as I can tell, is that women and men simply didn’t enjoy the same status.

How could a man value a woman if for all intents and purposes she was little more than property? Sure, a man will be fonder of a clean, well located house than a tin shanty in the mud, but that doesn’t mean he loves it.

In the course of just a few years, though, a new dynamic has begun to enter into marriage. More and more, partners are choosing each other, freely and without undue pressure. What started as surreptitious late-night flirting and horseplay has begun to show a decidedly emotional side.

One balmy evening back in October of 2003, I was walking through the darkened streets in a residential part of town. A slight movement caught my eye, and I realised a young man was standing in the shadow of a bougainvillea, staring off down the road.

A few steps further on, I was startled by a young woman standing idly by a hedge on the other side of the street, studiously examining her shoes.

Why, I wondered, would people simply stand around on street corners in the dark, I asked myself. I laugh at myself now, but it took me several minutes to realise that this was courtship, Vanuatu-style.

Things have changed dramatically in the space of a few short years. Now, it’s not at all uncommon to see young men and women walking about together, even occasionally holding hands.

Flirting consists more of smiles and casual contact than the shouted insults and shoulder punches that one saw even a few years ago.

Humans are hard-wired for mating. We are innately attracted to others, and efforts to suppress these desires ultimately fail.

Societies the world over have struggled with varying success to teach young men and women how to channel desire in a socially responsible way, but none have ever profited by denying it entirely.

But attraction isn’t synonymous with love. A bit of furtive wrestling in the dark may soothe the physical need, but it’s not anywhere near enough for domestic harmony.

Much has been written in recent years of the rise of romantic love as the defining characteristic of a marriage. It’s a very recent phenomenon. Even into the early 20^thCentury, matchmaking was based more on social alliance and status-building than anything else.

But the rise of individual wealth removed a number of constraints, allowing people to pursue happiness through meaningful partnership with another.

It needs to be said, by the way, that romantic marriages have proved no more enduring (or endurable) than arranged marriages. Each comes with a set of expectations, roles and responsibilities that provides couples with a lifetime of challenge and reward.

I take heart nonetheless when I see demonstrations of romantic love in modern-day Port Vila. It says to me that women are beginning to achieve a level of dignity, of person-hood, that makes them not only desirable, but admirable and worthy of respect.

There’s a long way yet to go. Legislation, law enforcement and health measures desperately need improvement. It’s heartening to see this week’s announcement of a partnership between AusAID and the Department of Women’s Affairs, under the capable guidance of Dorosday Kenneth.

But none of these measures can succeed until men begin to respect and value the women with whom they share their life. The newfound acceptability of open affection doesn’t guarantee this by any means. But it does help make it possible.

-Graham Crumb

Before and After!

2010-07-04T03:39:00.004+11:00

Before....

and After!!!

This is my neighbor, Selinda (aka Speed Baby) at a wedding. Dousing one another in Baby Powder is a time-honored tradition here on special occasions. Locals like the smell and it adds a bit of humor to public events. Children can amuse themselves for hours by throwing handfuls of powder at one another. One over-zealous child apparently nailed Selinda directly in the face.

Time to Eat!

2010-07-03T05:30:00.002+11:00

The traditional way of serving food at gatherings is still practiced often on Aneityum. Banana leaves are placed on the ground in a straight line and serve as "plates" for the food. Then the different recipes on hand are divvied into small pieces and dished out evenly along the line of banana leaves. Regardless of where you sit along the line of banana leaves, you should be able to reach in and taste the same mix of food as everyone else.

There are no forks, spoons or napkins. Everyone packs in close and takes turns choosing an item to eat. If there is an especially prized item on the menu, such as lobster, locals are very considerate in sharing, making sure that everyone gets a taste.

The Ministry of Health in Vanuatu has encouraged people to stop practicing this traditional dining style. They are afraid that it is not hygienic, especially when outdoors where island dogs are always vigilantly pacing nearby awaiting the opportunity to pounce at an unprotected section of the banana leaves. I find this to be the most entertaining part of the meal however, watching the massive effort to fend off starving dogs with stones and other projectiles.

The pictures above show the lunch we shared on Easter Sunday.

John's Romance

2010-07-01T23:38:00.006+11:00

Romance is complicated on the island of Aneityum. It certainly does not resemble any of the notions we hold in the Western World. This is a story of John, my best friend on Aneityum, and how he came to marry his wife Eunice.

(John, Eunice & children)

Before John married or even pursued Eunice, he had another girlfriend. He was not "dating" this woman, as there is no "dating" in rural Vanuatu. (Where would you go on a date?) Instead, John probably initiated their relationship by expressing his interest and joking with her. They most likely had to sneak off away from the village to meet, away from the prying eyes of other locals. Finding that they shared a mutual attraction, they completely by-passed "dating." Their relationship became quite serious almost over night. She moved into his home and began helping with house work and chores, while he played the traditional role of the man and secured their food and money.

John wanted to marry this woman, but the woman's family did not approve. One day they came to the house and demanded that she leave. Families wield an extraordinary amount of power when it comes to approving or rejecting relationships. (This is often why young people choose to hide their significant others for as long as possible). Upset, John left the island and worked in the capital city, Port Vila for a couple of years.

After living in town, John was eager to return to Aneityum and lead a simpler life. He moved back to the island and soon a woman named Eunice caught his eye. Eunice was two years older than John, around 24 years old. She had a 2 year old son with a previous boyfriend, who had since abandoned her and taken up with another local woman.

John's friends could not understand why he wanted to pursue Eunice, as she was older and already had a child. He ignored them. He was attracted to Eunice, liked her personality and observed that she was a "very hard worker." She enjoyed spending lots of time working in the garden, a trait John valued in her. John admits that he is a bit of a "lazy man," and if he married a lazy woman, his family would surely starve to death. Thus he began his courtship with Eunice.

John practiced "creeping," the Ni-Vanuatu practice of sneaking out at night to visit a woman in secret. Their secretive relationship blossomed over time, until Eunice's family discovered what was taking place. Eunice's father and brothers did not approve of John. They ordered him to end all contact with Eunice.

John believes that her they did not want Eunice to marry him because they were using her as an indentured servant. She provided a lot of help to the family in the garden, cooking and with other chores- so they did not want to lose a valuable worker! The family claimed that Eunice was promised to another man, following kastom practice on the island.

Having already lost a possible mate through a family's disapproval, John was determined this time around. He was summoned to a chiefly council where he was strictly forbidden from even talking to Eunice. John told them all that he agreed with their decision and they all drank kava together to settle the issue.

That very same night, John crept over to Eunice's house and snuck out to the gardens with her.

The family soon became aware that the relationship had not ended. Eunice's father and brothers were furious. They came for John with machetes and axes.

John saw the armed ambush approaching him and darted off through the bush. They chased him over a lengthy distance and eventually started gaining ground on him. To avoid being caught and harmed, John sprinted blindly through a very dense thicket of bush to try to lose his pursuers. While darting through the tropical forest, John fell over a small cliff, which he did not observe because of the vegetation and his quick pace.

He fell around 10 feet, but landed on awkwardly top of some saplings and felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his neck. A narrow tree branch had poked through his neck, right in the jugular.

He covered his neck to stop the bleeding and was able to hide in the bush from the family. He was badly injured though and feared for his life. He met some other locals and sent for Eunice, who met with him in the bush and gave him local kastom medicine. She brought food to him and helped him to find a better location to hide.

John suffered through fever and mild infection, but was able to heal through the local medicine that was administered. He did not return to his home for weeks, as he knew the family would be waiting to approach him. Instead, he slept outdoors in the bush, changing locations constantly to avoid detection.

Anyhow, it is a wild story and entertaining to hear first-hand from John. Eventually he married Eunice and the family begrudgingly accepted John. John laughs about the fact that his father-in-law visits them often and sleeps at their house now. "And to think he ran after me with an axe once!"

(Have been on home leave in the US for a month now. Will fly back to Vanuatu in 2 & 1/2 weeks! I feel like time is passing far too quickly. I anticipate being excited to return to the South Pacific yet sad to leave behind some smiling faces.

Anyhow, sorry I have not been actively posting... will try to change that over the next 4 or 5 weeks before I return to my remote island home.)

DVD Preview

2010-06-22T08:18:00.003+11:00

Here's the preview for the music DVD I have been working on, where all proceeds go towards the community. It has been a long process, but I am relieved that the whole production is almost complete.

I am on home leave in the USA for the next month. Will be selling DVD's here to fundraise until I return to Vanuatu, where I will launch the DVD independence weekend, July 28-30.

DOUBLE CLICK ON THE LINK- to see the full screen version. Sometimes, only half of the video shows up.

The Pig

2010-06-08T07:26:00.003+11:00

Recently, I made a small kastom offering to community leaders on the island. Following their tradition, I provided a pig and kava to local chief's and other "big man." I made this kastom offering because A.) I was hungry for roasted pork and B.) to explain my latest fundraising efforts and gain the support of area leaders.

I wanted it to be perfectly clear that profit from the upcoming DVD would go towards community needs (such as solar lighting and sports equipment) and not my own pocket. The kastom offering gave me the opportunity to gather together and inform locals from all the major villages on Aneityum. I only worried about the perception of islanders I do not know well, as some people could leap to the wrong conclusion.

The offering went very well. According to kastom now, the full island must support the project now that the leaders have accepted the pig and kava. We formed a committee to decide how to use any proceeds from DVD sales.

There are not many pigs on Aneityum. To acquire one, I called up Arthur, the volunteer in Middle Bush, Tanna (the one who was kastom circumcised) and left a hurried voicemail message, since his island's mobile phone service is extremely finicky and nearly requires climbing the phone company's tower and holding hoisting one's phone above your head to even receive one bar of reception. I was in total doubt that Arthur even received my message when a cargo ship arrived one day and a man delivered a squealing, hog-tied parcel at my doorstep.

I threw the pig in a small pen at my host family's house and they fed him left over table scraps for a week before we performed the kastom offering. It was roasted slowly over super-heated stones, bundled in leaves and mixed with Fiji taro.

Arthur said he did not wish to receive money in exchange for the expensive pig. He had a favor to ask me in return. He wanted a turtle from Aneityum, which is a highly prized gourmet delicacy in Middle Bush, Tanna. He was planning a ceremony himself and needed the turtle as an offering for his village. Thus I paid for boat fuel and local man to go "hook" a massive turtle on the reef.

When locals hear this story they laugh in surprise at Arthur and I. For thousands of years, tribes from the coastal areas have exchanged their local goods with tribes from the highlands. Arthur and I continued this kastom practice to the amusement of all.

Maewo Murders

2010-06-03T12:33:00.005+11:00

I briefly mentioned some brutal murders involving a village on the island of Maewo in my last blog posting. It is an interesting story, so I thought I would go into further detail.

The story has dominated local news coverage throughout the past several months and I was somewhat apprehensive about visiting this community after reading about what happened there.

It all started with the mysterious deaths of two headmasters at the village high school. One died of unexplained causes and then the replacement suffered the same fate within just a few months. They were relatively young and suffering from no diagnosed medical conditions. Of course it is possible that they died of a brain aneurism, stroke caused from a blocked artery or sudden severe illness- and that the timing of their deaths was merely a coincidence. But that is not what the community believes. Their village was positive that someone had performed black magic on the two teachers, out of jealousy or anger.

Specifically, they thought the two teachers had been poisoned. There are certain kastom rituals involving poison and black magic that thrive in Vanuatu today and have been practiced for thousands of years. While I may doubt these supernatural powers some may claim to have on the islands, a majority of the population is in total belief.

The village elders performed a kastom ritual to discover who was responsible for the black magic poisonings. The Maewo ritual is quite elaborate and I have never observed it- but apparently 10 meter long bamboo trees are cut down on top of a mountain and carried great distances, never being allowed to make contact with the ground, to a holy tabu place. The bamboo is then cut and filled with water and the village elders consult spirits which speak to them through the bamboo. Anyhow, the spirits evidently indicated that two men in the village were responsible for the deaths of the teachers.

There was a huge meeting in the village where the two men were accused. They denied any and all wrongdoing. One apparently gave an alibi for his location during the time of one of the deaths. The alibi turned out to be false though, the accused man later claimed to have confused the dates. But this was more than enough evidence for the village to assume the worst.

The village began to stone the two men, who immediately fled into the bush. Maewo has a plentiful supply of large, aerodynamic, volcanic stones- it is a wonder that the two escaped the meeting alive. A group of villagers swears that as they were about to stone one accused man to death, he vanished into thin air, further evidence of the use of black magic.

The two accused men hid in the dense bush and left the island in middle of the night. They took a boat to the island of Ambae, about a 90 minute trip away via motor boat or full night's effort in a canoe.

The village chief caught wind of the escape and ordered that a search party be dispatched to kill the two suspects. A boat carried the search party to Ambae the next day. They located one of the accused men rather quickly on the shore of the provincial capital. He was brutally cut into pieces with machetes and axes. I met a man from Ambae who witnessed the murder. He described the slaying in detail but said that the local Ambae men, including the police were afraid of interfering and inciting the wrath of the search party.

The second accused man had been admitted to the area hospital because of wounds inflicted during his stoning. He was tracked down and murdered in his hospital bed.

The search party returned to Maewo with the remains of accused men. The village tearlessly inspected their remains and initial preparations to bury the bodies were abandoned when it was suggested that the two could use black magic to resurrect themselves in the night and cause mischief. Thus, the two bodies were transported out to a deep place on the ocean and dumped overboard.

There are two Peace Corps volunteers, a young married couple named Justin and Sheridan, who work as teachers in this community. As you can imagine, it has been a stressful period of time for them, witnessing these events unfold. Justin described the unreal scene of viewing the remains of the slain men arrive back on Maewo. I asked for his opinion on the recent turmoil and why he and his wife remained in the village. He expressed his distaste for what had happened but thought that the villagers were well-intentioned nonetheless. They were just doing everything in their power to protect the school and make their community safer.

Anyhow, it is one hell of a story.

Certain search party members later turned themselves into police custody on the island of Ambae. It is unlikely that they will face harsh consequences.

Ambae / Maewo Trip

2010-05-07T16:03:00.008+11:00

(Girl Ambae in kastom dress)

(Looking out to Lake Monaro)

(Jumping at Big Wota with Bridget)

(Posing at Big Wota)

(Wrote this story today for the Peace Corps newsletter...)

The recent walk-about to Ambae and Maewo was eventful. I will not bore you with the details, as over-exposure has made me apathetic towards breath-taking scenery by now and I am writing in a hurry anyway. Let’s just say that everything looked “naes we” (Bislama for very nice) and I will try to focus on writing about what I found interesting.

Northern Vanuatu is hot. In the summer time, I probably would not notice and state something so blatantly obvious. But now that we have blanket and sweatshirt temps down south on Aneityum, I think it is worth mentioning. I spent the first day sweating excessively around Ed and Beth’s mansion. “Black Billy” DeLancey showed us around town, as Ed and Beth were away exploring Tanna during our visit. We dined on omelets at sassy Celia’s take away restaurant. Our rowdy group drew a crowd of onlookers as we splashed around the black sand beach and Arthur did headstands. Tim (who I now refer to as “Bed Brother”) and I shared a small, not so supple mattress while further confined in a narrow mosquito net. We slept outside on the mansion’s veranda overlooking a bay, praying that even the faintest whisper of a breeze might reach us, but were sadly disappointed.

Mobile phones chirping woke us at 4:15 AM, before even ambitious faol considered singing out and we were bouncing along on a pickup truck by 5:10 AM. We would hike Monaro that day. I suggested to Billy that we simply travel to a village, story with some yangfala, and begin a low-key hike to the top. Nothing touristy- just good ole exploring with the locals. Our arrival in Serembulu was less than low key however.

A bubu shell announced the arrival of our pickup truck. Women in kastom dress hung flower necklaces on our necks. Men beat on tam-tam like drums. Green coconuts were offered to us as we were ushered to seats of honor in a sparkling clean nakamal. The village chief welcomed us and local women performed kastom dances. Arthur and Tim coerced myself, Bob and Billy into doing a kastom dance from Tanna to say thank you for the village’s hearty welcome and the locals were so pleased they told Arthur that they intended to give us a small pig in appreciation. There was no breaking bush along the road, the path to the top was clean and well planned, support hand rails were even built in the extremely muddy areas. A string band awaited us after an hour’s trek up a large hill along the path. Cut sugar cane dangled from trees at planned rest stops. We swam in chilly Lake Monaro. As I tread water on top of the volcanic crater lake and stared at ash rising from not so distant vents, an eerie feeling of impending doom swept over me. This was quickly forgotten at lunch time, when tin fish and Ding Dongs were woofed down at alarming speeds.

The Serembulu road to the top of Mt. Monaro was advertised as taking only 2 hours to traverse. It took us 4 ½ hours to reach the summit and 3 hours to return. My savats became utterly useless when coated in softmud, so I hiked 90% of the road barefoot. Bob and I took turns informing each other of which stones along the path were “mother f**kers” as our toes bled freely and sores began to manifest. Rachel soared ahead of us on the return back to the village and I wondered if I might spend the entire night walking barefoot through the bush when we suddenly reemerged in Serembulu to receive fresh stone ground kava, kumala lap lap and prawn wasemaot.

A south Ambae man named Bob (or “Cool Bob” as I refer to him to distinguish from “White Bob”) followed us back to the mansion to provide Mount Monaro tattoos to our group. I drank kava with “Cool Bob” but I was the only one to refuse a tattoo as I have little desire to contract hepatitus or explain why an equal sign (the Monaro tattoo) has been tattooed on my buttox for the remainder of my life.

The women of Ambae are all beautiful as a rule. I almost feel as if I have been cheated living on Aneityum the past 2 years, where the supply of females is limited to say the least. In Serembulu, the chief’s daughter joined our Monaro expedition. When she refused to tell me her name, I gave her a new kastom name, “Kumala Lap Lap.” Kumala Lap Lap teased me the entire trek but when we returned to the village she and her father presented me with a large take-away portion of kumala lap lap which I took as a symbolic gesture that I was being offered Kumala Lap Lap as a bride. I shook hands awkwardly and boarded the pickup truck to the mansion with my starchy snack parcel.

Man Ambae said that the women of Maewo were even more attractive, so you can imagine how excited I was to observe this in person. Facilitating the BUILD workshop and seeing the picturesque waterfalls on the island might be mildly rewarding as well I supposed.

The BUILD / GLOW camp made me feel more like a hippy than I have ever felt in my life. There were tye-dye shirts, friendship bracelets, frisbees, hacky sacks, feelings were shared and we actually sang “Kumbaeya”. The word "Dude" was tossed around liberally. We bonded well with the youth after spending every waking moment for three days with them. A lot of important information was delivered on subjects such as leadership and sexual health, but whether they absorbed it or not remains to be seen. But one thing’s for sure- they know how to throw a frisbee pretty damn well now!

Maewo volunteers are lucky to be on such a remarkable island. With the exception of the recent poisonings / brutal murders that took place in Justin / Sheridan’s community- the place seemed swell! Actually, it’s probably because I was expecting to be ambushed the entire trip that I found all of the locals so remarkably friendly. I had never interacted with Justin and Sheridan before, I had only respected Justin’s mustache from a safe distance and had typed up a story Sheridan submitted to the newsletter (which I accidentally deleted- sorry again!). But they are a humorous couple whose company I enjoyed. Sandy ran the camps with the full support of her community and was extremely organized. I fault her only for owning a kitten that likes to assault sleeping humanitarians in the wee hours of the morning. Arthur and Bob, who slept on Sandy’s veranda would take turns in the night of tossing the kitten inside of her house (where I was in sweet repose) and shutting the door until I was attacked by the wild feline and became annoyed enough to arise and toss it back outside. Thus we named this puskat “The Hand Grenade,” and we handled it with deadly care before tossing it lest we be scratched by razor sharp claws. Justine hosted us for a night at her place where we dined on pasta cross-eyed after experiencing stone ground Maewo kava for the first time.

Big Water, a series, or rather one massive, spread out waterfall in north Maewo was a highlight of the trip. We also dove off a smaller but also enjoyable waterfall in Central Maewo after exploring Moon Cave. These are “naes we” places and need to be seen first hand to be understood.

When it was time to return to Vila / Aneityum, it was a sad day. A group of villagers treked down to stoney shore to wave goodbye to our boat and the gloomy weather drizzled in respect to the occasion. Couldn’t we spend one more week on Maewo?

Video Link

2010-05-06T10:03:00.002+11:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfmZjwRJ5gs

The sample clip link should work now on YouTube...

Music DVD Sample

2010-04-25T08:32:00.007+11:00

The camera man for my music DVD finally arrived to Aneityum before last week, though he was a bit behind schedule. He had missed three previously agreed upon dates- so I was beginning to give up hope.

We shot 6 videos in all on Aneityum. Sam, the camera man, is busy editing them now- but I have seen a few rough draft copies and I am pleased. We hiked all over the island trying to find scenic backdrops for the shoot. Rain interfered with our plans a few times, but all in all- the week went well.

I will be selling the DVD's locally but hopefully online too through PayPal. All of the profits will be donated back to the community. I have plans to buy more solar light systems for local churches, sporting equipment and maybe even fund some scholarships for island youth if there is enough money.

Anyhow, here is a brief sample. This is just a rough copy, but I will update you all again when it the final version is ready sometime in June...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfmZjwRJ5gs

COS Conference & Extension

2010-04-24T15:10:00.001+11:00

Peace Corps flew me into Port Vila for my Close of Service (COS) conference this week. Can't believe that two years have passed since my arrival in Vanuatu. Time is flying now, but it definitely seemed to stand still throughout numerous stretches of my service.

The COS conference is the last time my training group will be together. We have a close connection because of our shared experience. We struggled to adapt to a new culture together: fumbling with our Bislama, sitting through tedious hours of lecture, battling home sickness and exploring a new tropical world.

There were 21 volunteers in our training group to start with. Two years later, only 13 of us remain. (Some left early because of medical problems, to pursue work / school plans or just due to frustrations with life here). The survivors in our group sat through two days of presentations this week by PC staff members intended to gather the necessary paperwork and info needed to provide some closure to our work here in Vanuatu. They put us up in a nice bungalow though, much nicer than the standard rooms resembling prison cells that we normally inhabit. There was even a washer / dryer in one of the rooms. Luxury.

We went on a karaoke / booze cruise dinner to mark our last evening spent together. Singing "Fulsom Prison Blues" loudly into the night under the influence of Jack Daniel's almost made me forget that I was in the South Pacific.

We will leave this country one by one over the next three months. I will not see many of the faces in our group again. Four PCV's, including myself, are considering extending our service for one more year. If we do extend, this will entitle us to a Peace Corps funded flight back to the USA and over a month's vacation time before starting another year.

My extension was just approved officially yesterday. Below is the application letter I sent to the Country Director which should provide a little more insight as to why I wanted to spend another year in Vanuatu.

"To Whom it May Concern,

With a desire to assist the people of Vanuatu, challenge myself and contribute to a noble cause, I seek to extend my Peace Corps service by an additional year.

My Peace Corps service to date has been the most rewarding and humbling experience of my life. Integrating into a new culture and sharing with my community has taught me invaluable life lessons. There have moments of joy, successful projects and good relationships built with villagers. There have also been frustrations and difficulties along the way, as would accompany any rigorous undertaking. At the end of the day though, I believe that I have had a positive influence in my community and have become a better, more determined person throughout the process. Thus, I strongly desire to extend 3 months at my current site in Aneityum and then 9 months in the village of Epau.

The justification behind a three month extension on Aneityum is twofold. First, an additional three months will allow me to compensate for lost time experienced during medical evacuations to Brisbane and Washington, DC. A year ago, I was experiencing medical problems which had a drastic impact on my productivity. Between being sick at site, Port Vila, Brisbane and DC- I was sidelined from my service for about three months. I returned to site with a renewed passion to make the most of my time in Vanuatu, having almost lost the opportunity. I am currently experiencing zero medical problems and am confident that I have made a full recovery.

Secondly, three more months at site would give me the chance to finish some unresolved business in the community. My former counter-part, the manager of our community timber project, was recently embroiled in a sexual scandal involving the rape of a minor and incest. We later discovered that he had also stolen significant moneys from the project. The Board of Directors for the project has just issued his termination- and a replacement for his position has been named. As a business volunteer, most of my work takes place in an office setting with management. Even three extra months would help provide sufficient time to work with this new management. My presence during this transition time at the community project could make an important difference.

Also in wake of the recent abuse and controversy in the community, I am left wanting to take some sort of action. I have already started a woman's football league here on the island, the first of its kind. But I would like to organize a "Woman's Weekend" here on the island- and have guest speakers visit to discuss important issues relating to empowerment of women, abuse and family issues. I have presented this idea to the Area Secretary and Area Councilor and have their full support. I plan to request help from the GAD committee in organizing these events. The "Woman's Weekend" would correspond with the end of season women's soccer tournament. I would only be able to organize the weekend with an additional three months on the island, otherwise I will hard-pressed for time.

I have also recently been able to acquire a new tractor and saw mill engine for the timber project through requests to the government of Vanuatu. They should be arriving in a shipment to Aneityum sometime towards the end of this year. I would love to be here at their arrival and assist in their implementation at Aneityum Forest Timba.

I would like to serve 9 months in Epau Village in north Efate for many reasons. I already have an intimate knowledge of the community because it was my training village. This will give me an advantage as I am already well known and have established relationships. I am aware that the community desperately wants a Peace Corps Volunteer, they mentioned this even back in 2008. Bob Kelley, Jeremiah Johnson and a trainee from the new group were all slated to serve there at one time, but it never worked out for various reasons. The conservation area in Epau is of great importance to the community. Having the full support of the community is extremely important to me.

My background in both business administration and forestry will aid me in assisting the Area Secretary in Epau Village. Exploring new territory and changing my work place would be refreshing. It would also be nice to experience service somewhere less remote. I sometimes feel extremely isolated as the only Westerner on Aneityum now, especially when communication lines are down.

Thank you for your consideration to this request to extend and I eagerly await your answer.

Matthew Hardwick"

Completed Solar Project!

2010-04-07T06:16:00.000+11:00

The solar project I have been working on is officially finished as of this week! Originally, I had planned to wrap things up in November- but due to the size of a solar system I installed in a village called Umej, I ran out of wiring.

There are five community buildings that have solar lighting now. A very large Catholic church, a house for the Presbyterian Woman's and Youth group, the timber office, a nakamal / dining hall and a small SDA church. I just completed the lighting system at the small SDA church because a cargo ship finally delivered some wire which I ordered months ago.

Thank you to all of the donors out there! I will post some pictures / videos of the completed solar kits when I have a decent internet connection and you all should receive some thank you letters sometime soon.

Most of us in the Western World do not realize the importance of lighting until the power goes out and yet we still instinctively flip the light switch repeatedly like hamsters with learning disabilities. Cutting the island's reliance of kerosine and generators is important- and these community buildings are inspiring a lot of local families to save up for solar systems of their own.

Rain, Rain Go Away

2010-03-30T06:19:00.000+11:00

The rain really needs to stop now, I have had enough. I just waded through nearly knee-deep puddles as I returned from the other side of village this evening. I am dripping wet and cold. It seems that my rain jacket has gone from being "water resistant" to "water absorbent". A new jacket is now at the top of my wish list. Of course, I do not own an umbrella either because of a deeply entrenched belief that using or even purchasing one would somehow reduce my manliness.

Many of the village paths consist of a red clay that becomes unbelievably slippery when wet. Add steep hillsides to the equation and the possibility of sliding great distances on one's ass becomes very real. Sandals become useless when the red clay coats the inside and leaves you slipping with no traction. It is better to go barefoot and just clean your dirty feet at some later point in time.

I had dinner with a local family tonight, but the mother was not present because heavy rains flooded a nearby river and left her stranded on the other side. She will probably take shelter for the entire night with some villagers until the water level drops tomorrow morning.

Lots of rain means lots of mosquitos now, when normally they are not such a problem. Luckily, my windows are screened and I sleep under a mosquito net for extra protection. Nothing is more annoying in life than trying to fall asleep with a mosquito buzzing in one's ear canal. My garden is very green. I have a small nursery bed for all of my lettuce and cabbage seedlings but I have to cover it well with banana leaves so that the heavy rains do not wash it away.

The camera man is due to fly in tomorrow to shoot my music videos for the week. Lots of rain would spoil our plans to go hiking and capture some of the scenery here. I hope things dry up...

Happy St. Patty's!

2010-03-20T20:51:00.000+11:00

St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite holidays in the US. I usually mark the occasion by taking sick leave from work, wearing my Celtic football jersey, watching college basketball the entire day and witnessing the collapse of my March Madness bracket whilst drinking cold Guinness and blaring Irish music way too loud.

I did none of those things today.

It was a cloudy, damp day- a cyclone recently went through the northern part of the country and we have been experiencing its effects. There were very strong winds for a few days, flights to the island were canceled. Sadly, the flight that was supposed to carry the camera man for my music video on the island was canceled as well- but we have rescheduled for 2 weeks time.

A cargo ship arrived last week, so the stores are well stocked with supplies at the moment. The ship came for our community project's timber- 52 cubic meters in all. We sell for around $500 a cubic so we will make over $25,000. I am proud of all of the employees, they worked very hard while I was away in Vila and we were able to attract a ship here entirely through their effort. It had been about a year's time since the last shipment of timber, when ideally ships should come for our timber every two months.

The ship delivered 8 large bags of a special kind of grass for our work horse to eat. Spent two days sweating in my garden making a nursery for it all. Made a new garden area for tomatoes, onions, lettuce and cabbage that I fenced in with chicken wire as well. (If you do not fence in your garden, chickens destroy your hard work with their relentless scratching and pecking.)

The old timber project manager has finally been terminated by the Board of Directors! When I returned from Port Vila, the Board had yet to make a decision and were planning on continuing to use me as "Acting Manager." Being a business advisor, I do not appreciate being used as a free employee. It is my job to work with the locals here, teach them to fish instead of tossing them a free meal. So I shut down work for at the timber project. I told the Board that work would remain closed until they elected a replacement "Acting Manager" and disciplined the old manager. They did exactly that and now the project is up and running again.

I believe that the police may come for the old manager as I hear rumors that his case is not finished. The police actually did come over a month ago and attempted to take him into custody, but he fled into the bush when it was time to board the plane to leave Aneityum. Anyhow if the woman's rights group funds another police expedition here, maybe the police will be more successful on their second attempt.

Brian the thief is now in custody on the island of Tanna and Okis (who attacked his grandfather after stealing from his store) is awaiting trial on the island of Efate. Maybe there is some justice in the country...

I have been slowly contributing to the decay of my mental facilities by watching Entourage, Seasons 1-4 the past few weeks. Just started reading The Pearl / The Red Pony by Steinbeck, which my family thoughtfully sent me, to counteract my loss of brain power. Super Man the puppy is growing remarkably fast and demands to be fed more every day. My friend John and I are building a small house in my nakamal to hide from the rain while we drink kava. Life is good.

Tsunami Warning.... Part III

2010-03-01T11:11:00.007+11:00

The news article below details some of the panic we experienced here yesterday. I was sleeping in a village called Mele when banging on the door disturbed my sleep at 5 AM. I opened the door half-asleep and listened to a villager explain that the entire country was under a tsunami warning because of a massive earth quake.

I had felt a minor earthquake at 9:30 PM the night before but did not think much of it.

Being a low-lying village, almost the entire population of 5,000 people evacuated to the hillsides. I was hesitant to go at first, because A.) I was drowsy and B.) I was in a second story building about a mile inland. But as I was staying at a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer's apartment, I followed her lead (which was the smart and responsible thing to do anyway). We hitched a ride in the back of a pickup to the top of a massive hilltop and awaited a killer tsunami to arrive at 8:30 AM. We played cards with village children in our impromptu refugee camp, hundreds of people swarming around us. The radio gave us vague updates every half hour, otherwise the DJ was playing Michael Jackson's, "We Are the World" on repeat to slowly torture us. The entire country was on "Red Alert." Nothing actually arrived and we returned to the apartment at lunch time- but better safe than sorry.

I fly back to Aneityum early tomorrow morning. I am looking forward to getting back to life on the island, I am sure Super Man misses me quite a bit.

Scientists defend warning after tsunami nonevent

By GILLIAN FLACCUS (AP) – 2 hours ago

HONOLULU — The warning was ominous, its predictions dire: Oceanographers issued a bulletin telling Hawaii and other Pacific islands that a killer wave was heading their way with terrifying force and that "urgent action should be taken to protect lives and property."

But the devastating tidal surge predicted after Chile's magnitude 8.8-earthquake for areas far from the epicenter never materialized and by Sunday, authorities had lifted the warning after waves half the predicted size tickled the shores of Hawaii and tourists once again jammed beaches and restaurants.

Scientists acknowledged they overstated the threat, but defended their actions, saying they took the proper steps and learned the lessons of the 2004 Indonesian tsunami that killed thousands of people who didn't get enough warning.

"It's a key point to remember that we cannot end the warnings. Failure to warn is not an option for us," said Dai Lin Wang, an oceanographer at the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii. "We cannot have a situation that we thought was no problem and then it's devastating. That just cannot happen."

Hundreds of thousands of people fled shorelines for higher ground Saturday in a panic that circled the Pacific Rim after scientists warned 53 nations and territories that a tsunami had been generated by the massive Chilean quake.

It was the largest-scale evacuation in Hawaii in years, if not decades. Emergency sirens blared throughout the day, the Navy moved ships out of Pearl Harbor, and residents hoarded gasoline, food and water in anticipation of a major disaster. Some supermarkets even placed limits on items like Spam because of the panic buying.

At least five people were killed by the tsunami on Robinson Crusoe Island off Chile's coast and huge waves devastated the port city of Talcahuano, near hard-hit Concepcion on Chile's mainland.

But the threat of monster waves that left Hawaii's sun-drenched beaches empty for hours never appeared — a stark contrast to the tidal surge that killed 230,000 people around the Indian Ocean in 2004 and flattened entire communities.

This time, waves of more than 5 feet were reported in Kahului Bay in Maui and in Hilo, on the eastern coast of Hawaii's Big Island, but did little damage. Predictions of wave height in some areas were off by as much as 50 percent.

In Tonga, where up to 50,000 people fled inland hours ahead of the tsunami, the National Disaster Office had reports of a wave up to 6.5 feet hitting a small northern island, with no indications of damage.

And in Japan, where authorities ordered 400,000 people out of coastal communities, the biggest wave was a 4-foot surge that hit the northern island of Hokkaido, flooding some piers.

Still, scientists offered no apologies for the warning and defended their work, all while worrying that the false alarm could lead to complacency among coastal residents — a disastrous possibility in the earthquake-prone Pacific Rim.

Music Video DVD

2010-02-26T10:35:00.003+11:00

Over the past 6 months, I have made a new hip-hop CD in Bislama, the pidgin language of Vanuatu with a couple of songs in English as well. With the encouragement of friends and locals, I have started making music videos for these songs. I am planning to sell the DVD and donate any profit back to the community.

Music DVD's are wildly popular here in Vanuatu. Villagers will spend entire evenings watching Pacific string band, African zook and Carribbean reggae videos. Often, the musicians sing in a foreign language that locals that cannot even understand. They are enamored with these DVD's nonetheless.

There will be roughly 10 songs on the DVD. We have already filmed about 2 songs completely. Crowds gather in the streets here when we film, slightly embarassing to be perfectly honest. But if Peace Corps prepares you for one thing in life, it's how to ignore being stared at.

I have hired a professional cameraman to film and edit the videos. He is charging roughly $100 per song and I have paid for his plane ticket to Aneityum, where we will shoot over half the DVD on the island. Hopefully I will re-coup all of these expenses when we launch the DVD in June.

Most of the songs are about purely Ni-Vanuatu topics, so I am hoping to capture local interest. There are songs about kava, the arrival of Christian missionaries, the low quality Chinese stores here to give a few examples. There is no hip-hop available now in Bislama as well, so this will be a first for the country. I will keep you all updated on how things go...

Hip Hop - Vanuatu

2010-02-18T12:55:00.004+11:00

I wrote the following excerpt for our Peace Corps newsletter. It details some of my musical activities here in Vanuatu...

(Myself performing at Fes Naupuan, the biggest music festival in Vanuatu - in front of a crowd of several thousand people)

Despite my pale complexion, lack of a criminal record and disdain for the word, “Crunk,” I am a rapper. I don’t know how it happened. One day I was listening to Coolio’s “Gangster’s Paradise” and the next, I was jotting down rhymes of my own during fifth period Algebra. I do not like to advertise the fact that I am a rapper, as most of the stereotypes that accompany the title are unsavory. White rappers in particular are often categorized as imposters with questionable intellect (think Vanilla Ice).

Freestyles are often demanded of me, which allow me to showcase my complete lack of improvisational skill. Wishing to avoid this, the association with miscreants and wanna-be’s and a subjection to undue scrutiny, I have made rapping my dirty little secret, hiding it from family, girlfriends, employers and the world for as long as possible.

It is thus with great reluctance and a cautious air that I share with you, dear readers, my passion for hip-hop.

In high school, I made two hip-hop CD’s, which I sold to fellow students and would be very embarrassed to play before an audience today. Friends were supportive at the time however, regardless of the quality of these early efforts. When someone memorized and recited lyrics to one of my songs, it always felt good. In college, I recorded songs occasionally when inspiration struck. I performed a few times at pep rallies or fundraisers. After graduation, I worked a marketing job for two years and hip-hop was put on the backburner. I discovered new hobbies and thought that my rapping days were over. My passion for rap never died though and I inevitably found myself recording new music again.

Hip-hop is embraced all over the world, which is why I was surprised that it was not more widely listened to here in Vanuatu. String band and reggae songs dominate the radio instead. I began to ponder why this was.

American hip-hop often depicts urban life, which does not translate well for Pacific islanders living in tropical paradise. Swearing also turns off many listeners. Lots of Americans fail to understand hip-hop lyrics because of strong slang and fastpaced delivery, so imagine the difficulty facing the average Ni-Vanuatu.

Contemplating why hiphop was unpopular here, I began to toy with the idea of making some hip-hop songs in Bislama, the national language, which Ni-Vanuatu could actually understand and relate to. Latham Wood, a RPCV who served on Aneityum with me, encouraged me to do this also. He had just started a recording studio on the island for local musicians and wanted me to contribute to his efforts. Eventually, I made a rap about Aneityum, which Latham shot a music video for.

After recording a song about Aneityum, I tried to write and produce a full album in Bislama. A local Peace Corps staff member named Richard was kind enough to lend his vocals to one song about kava. I sampled a song from a talented guitarist named Nalveio on the island. A few local girls provided background vocals for a few tracks. There were nine songs total.

I had a lot of fun making the CD and rhyming in Bislama came easier than expected. Creeping local girls, drinking kava and working in the garden provided entirely new and unique subject matter for my hip-hop. The boys on my island responded positively to the music and began reciting parts of my songs on occasion. I was pleased.

I was surprised to hear that a volunteer named Alexia had somehow scheduled me to perform at Fest
Napuan, the largest musical event in Vanuatu, during my trip to Port Vila in November to work on this newsletter. True, my slated spot was only for ten minutes while an international band set up their equipment on the main stage, but surely this was the first step to stardom, lots of money and all the island girls I could hope for.

I asked Richard Simbolo to perform with me for the song we had previously made about kava. He rounded up his very talented band Krosrod to play live with us as well. Other acts performing at Fes Napuan had rehearsed together for months in preparation, but the band and I met together for just a few hours before the concert. We were venturing into frightening new territory for me, musical improvisation.

The concert went well. Krosrod consists of gifted musicians, the lead singer has toured New Caledonia and Europe performing his songs. He played the saxophone at interludes between my hip-hop, Richard sang sweet Reggae melodies with a drummer, two keyboarders and an electric guitarist adding much flavor as well. I drank a shell of kava on stage between the two songs I performed and was frightened I would slip up
when the kava kicked. Luckily, I only had one shell.

It was a memorable experience. Now I enjoy a small taste of stardom around town when locals occasionally recognize me from the performance. Sadly, I have yet to be asked to sign a single autograph.

The performance is on YouTube. You can click the two links below to view:

Music Video #1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4mHmNbXpXM

Music Video #2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rL53-8vw-Q

Picture Update

2010-02-17T15:33:00.005+11:00

Here is the link to the my latest batch of photos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2035295&id=75800509&l=664b8469fb

Introducing Super Man

2010-02-14T10:44:00.004+11:00

This is my puppy "Super Man"! Even though I will not be on the island much longer, I felt sorry for him and decided to take care of him while I'm here.

It is probably obvious with all the recent posts but I am now in the capital city doing some work. I will return to Super Man in a week or so. My friend John is taking care of him for now, hopefully he is not too skinny when I return.

Love Your Pets

2010-02-12T10:29:00.000+11:00

A Canadian pastor and his wife came to the island and distributed free Bislama Bibles to locals this week. They were blissfully unaware of all the problems occurring here at the moment. They led a portion of Sunday's church service. They seemed nice enough, but their sermon was embarrassing for me to witness.

They spoke down to the congregation as if the locals were all school children with learning disabilities. They then performed a church song that involved dance moves and gestures, which surely would have been more appropriate for Sunday school children. They urged the locals to join in but were unsuccessful. Instead, the audience passively watched and kindly applauded at the end.

The woman closed the service with a speech on the importance of treating animals kindly. She informed us that her daughter was a veterinarian- and that the village should remember to love their dogs and cats! A local pastor named Thomas nudged me on the shoulder and winked at this point. He was aware that my host family served dog for dinner the previous week.

I couldn't help but feeling a bit irritated listening to this. Yes, I think it is important to treat animals kindly. But the abuse inflicted upon women and children here is probably more of a priority at the moment...

The Man with No Shame

2010-02-11T09:49:00.001+11:00

Considering the nature of his crimes, I should not be surprised by any of my former counter-part's actions.

He has shown a complete lack of remorse and shame. He walks around the village with his head held high, as he considers the kastom fine to have completely wiped the slate clean. He drinks kava every night. He laughs and jokes around with friends. Brian the thief has become his new best friend, I guess the two criminals find solace in each other's company. The same day he was issued a suspension from the Board of Directors, he inquired as to the half-salary that should be issued to him.

I have been approached by him several times at the nakamal. During these conversations, I try to keep my disgust and anger to myself- and just listen to him ramble. He told me that he is not afraid of going to court because he is confident in his defense (that the village chiefs already made a ruling, establishing precedence, so the legal system cannot punish him again). He tells me how worried he is for our timber project and tries to give me advice. He has plans to move to New Zealand if his wife decides to leave him. He quotes scripture, saying that he prays to God that his family will become whole again and that he will not go to prison. Finding religion has come at a very convenient time for him. Sadly it was not present when he planning the rape of his step-daughter.

I am surprised however, by the reaction of the some in the community. Many people hate the man, but there is a great deal of people who seem to completely forgive him or at least ignore his crimes.

His in-laws say that they now feel sorry for him. They no longer want him to go to prison and are urging his wife to return to him. She remains understandably upset that her own daughter was raped. When I spoke to her, she told me how ashamed she felt about all of this, as her family is the center of island gossip now. She moved into her parent's house upon discovering the news- but my former counterpart drunkenly passes by this house in the wee hours of every morning, calling out her name. So far she has ignored his pleas, but he is desperately trying to speak with her again. I think he is seeking forgiveness only in order to escape her pressing charges with the police.

The phones have not been working but the wife secretly mailed a letter to her woman's support group in Port Vila. This woman's group is arranging for the police to come (you must pay the airfare for police visits yourself and also for the criminals if you want action taken).

I have heard some villagers say that everyone on Aneityum is Christian, so why can't there be forgiveness? This is the kind of attitude that makes my former counter-part's actions acceptable in the community. His actions are not to be forgiven at the drop of a hat, especially when he is the poster boy for insincerity. Incest and rape are not entirely uncommon here. Should the police not take action, many women will have a reasonable concern as to the safety and well-being of their children.

Thankfully, I have local friends who oppose my counter-part and are trying to bring him to justice. They acknowledge that kastom fines cannot right a wrong of such magnitude and that something must be done.

Suspension!?!

2010-02-09T07:39:00.001+11:00

Have learned a lot more about my former counterpart of the timber project who sexually abused his step daughter. Some locals finally found the courage to share some information with me after his latest scandal unfolded.

Apparently he has a history of misusing money. He was an agent for the national airline until he was caught stealing company money and fired. He also worked for the Tourism Project and embezzled there too. So surprise, surprise- I have been discovering misuse within our timber project too.

First, I found out about the sale of a timber shed and a piece of ground that the project owned on another island. I did not even know that this property existed. The former manager sold it but never reported the transaction to the office. He admits to pocketing around $700 for personal use. Next, I heard reports about him loading cargo ships with second grade timber, knowing that we only keep inventory and receipts for first grade timber. He sold the second grade timber privately and kept the money. Finally, the biggest possible theft of all was reported to me by our financial advisor in Port Vila. He suspects that the former manager sold timber to a company at a rate of about $800 a cubic but only reported a sale of $500 a cubic. The manager demanded that this company pay via cash or check and not deposit directly into our account. A timber shipment normally has around 40 cubic, so that means around $12,000 was possibly stolen.

This is all infuriating when you consider how much the community project is struggling financially. Locals were afraid to tell me about all of this before because this man held a lot of rank in the community. He talks down to others like he is an authority on every subject but it has become obvious how inept he is. A report I plan to give the community clearly shows the steady decline of our community project under his command. For all of the production downfalls, financial losses and human resource troubles- he has an extravagant speech, listing all of his excuses and how he plans to solve every problem. But it is just meaningless talk.

The Board of Directors for our project met a few times to discuss the fate of the manager. In Western Culture, it would be fairly obvious to terminate him, as raping a child would be considered grounds for 'Serious Misconduct' alone. I urged the Board of Directors to fire him. They opted instead to suspend him for 3 months time! Crazy! Under the Employment Act of Vanuatu, the project must pay him half-salary and cannot advertise his position during this time.

After the 3 month suspension, the Board will sit down and discuss whether to terminate him or reinstate him.

The Board wants me to write a letter explaining his suspension on the grounds of "Leadership Problems." I refuse to do this- if they want me to write a letter detailing theft and rape charges, I will. I cannot be too vocal in my protest, however. Word of my urging his termination already reached the manager, who then launched a smear campaign against me saying that I was sticking my nose into his private business. I am not afraid, but I do not want my house to be burned down over this man either. I have decided to bide my time in the meanwhile until I can go to Port Vila and collect receipts to prove his theft or the police come arrest him on rape charges.

The Country Director of Peace Corps asked me if I felt threatened- if so, I would be evacuated to Port Vila. Our community project needs me here, I do not plan to leave. I am due to fly into town in a few weeks to work on a newsletter anyway, so I will be able to take a much-needed break then. I do not feel threatened, this man is a coward. If he does damage any of my property, it will most likely be when I leave. I would love an excuse to fight him, as would much of the community- but I doubt that will ever happen.

Work

2010-02-08T14:40:00.000+11:00

Since stepping into the shoes of manager of Aneityum Forest Timber, I have been very busy. Finished our End of Year Report and made a budget for 2010- since the old manager never put much stock in planning. Many of the 20+ work men for our project skip work or eventually show an inclination for laziness, so I am changing the work contracts from one year to one month. Should an employee not work hard, we will replace them with another villager eagerly waiting for an opportunity to work. Currently, all of the employees are paid the same amount of money- regardless of position, production and responsibilities. They earn around $13 for a full day's work in the field. I am changing the pay scheme and providing pay bonuses to give workers an incentive to work hard.

Have sent off several aid requests to the governments of Vanuatu and New Caledonia for assistance in acquiring a quality second-hand tractor, tractor-trailer and new saw mill. New equipment would pump new life into the timber project. I am also preparing to request help from NZ Aid in repairing our office and the timber house I currently live in. New Zealand built the property in the 1970's, so I hope their vested interest will make them more inclined to help us. The roof is rusted, a lot of the timber is rotting and the window louvers have fallen apart.

Myself and the office secretary are changing the sales and inventory process. I am trying to have them process everything through Microsoft Excel, since there seem to be a lot of mathematical errors when they add up timber volume and do pricing on a calculator. Many of our customers take timber on credit and then fail to pay the project back.

The phones have been down for over a month, so doing business here is hard. I relay messages thru my HF radio to Peace Corps but that is not very reliable. If you do not constantly hound and remind merchants in Port Vila, they will never ship ordered goods to the island. We have a work horse, trailer, bottle of welding gas and 5 drums of fuel we have been waiting to receive for months.

Most work days, the boys head up into the pine plantation and roast bananas over a fire for lunch. Their job entails much manual labor and they rarely eat well. I am arranging to pay for families to deliver food to the workers, so that they have a little more power in the afternoon.

The next time I go to Port Vila, I have to buy many spare parts for aging equipment, gather quotations for aid requests all over town, meet with hardware and supply companies to try and find a buyer who will pay a fair price for our timber (we are currently being robbed), negotiate with cargo ships for more reliable shipping (the only 2 ships that regularly travel to Aneityum are currently out of operation) and meet with a lawyer to end the project's incorporation for tax purposes.

The timber project was initially a private business run by some Kiwis before it became a community project. However, we are still registered as a private business with the government here, which has charged us tens of thousands of dollars in social security payments. Will meet with a lawyer in Port Vila soon to try and win an exemption, since our community project is struggling just to sustain itself.

Anyhow, there are a host of problems to tackle and I'm sure I won't be able to resolve them all. But I am trying my best...

The Counterpart (1/12/10)

2010-02-07T12:15:00.002+11:00

It has been a terrible week for me, along with many others on the island. Some very disturbing revelations came about involving my work counterpart , the manager of the timber project. To the surprise of everyone, it turns out that he has been sexually abusing his seventeen year old step-daughter for over a year now.

I have worked very closely with this man and thought of him as a friend. When I first heard the news, I was caught between the feeling of disbelief and that of disgust. It was as if someone had died in the village. The weather was appropriately overcast and gloomy and shocked villagers sat around their homes quietly trying to process the news. A few even rushed down to the man's home and tried to fight him, but he ran away.

This man is the head of his extended family, which entitled him to respect and authority among his relatives. Now his own brothers will not even speak with him or acknowledge his presence, including my host father Kolin. Kolin is a very religious, church-going man not inclined to drink much, but lately he and I have had quite a bit of kava whilst dealing with our pain and anger.

The girl who was abused was the first-born daughter of my counterpart's wife. Her biological father was from another island, but the manager of the timber project raised her from the time she was a baby. Obviously, her mother is distraught over all of this. She and the girl moved out and are now living with her parents. The manager has a history of cheating on his wife. He had even attempted to take advantage of his wife's sister once. All of this was news to me, this man was always very civil and respectful in my presence.

There was a big community meeting with the council of chiefs yesterday. Explicit details came out in this meeting that have upset everyone further. The man was facing multiple charges of rape, incest, adultery and sex with a minor. Apparently he would disguise himself, tie up his daughter and then rape her in the bush- and had done so multiple times the past year. His custom punishment according to the council of chiefs: two pigs, some bundles of taro and some stampas of kava. All of this fine was paid by his family members too, nothing actually was paid from my counterpart himself. According to custom, he should be completely forgiven for his wrong-doings after completing the fine- but many locals are still upset with him obviously.

To top it off, the girl who was raped was whipped in public by her uncles during this meeting. I asked one of the uncles afterwards why they would flog a poor child like this girl who has already been traumatized thoroughly. He acknowledged that he did not entirely agree with the whipping either, but it is custom to beat the woman publicly to "carry out the shame" of the family. If any man commits any offense in relation to a woman, it is the woman who is beaten in public. I let him know how much I disagreed with this. The girl was also issued a fine to pay to the council of chiefs.

It is up to the wife of this man to decide whether or not to file police charges or not. Ironically, she is a chairman of a committee to protect children and women from abuse- and would be the designated person to report this sort of crime anyhow.

I had to go speak to this man yesterday to get the keys to our office. He told me that he is afraid of what his 2 year old son will think of him one day and that he will go to prison and miss out on his childhood. I had no kind words to offer him.

This place can be wonderful, but it can also feel very backwards and dark sometimes.

Theft on Aneityum - Part II

2010-02-06T01:41:00.003+11:00

Aneityum has a reputation for theft. Normally, you can leave your door unlocked and never worry about something being stolen in rural Vanuatu. That is not the case here.

Theft even occurs in the gardens. Many villagers rely on store-bought food such as rice and tin fish and have fallen away from the custom lifestyle because of an influx of easy money from cruise ship tourists. So the villagers who actually work hard in their gardens constantly have food stolen from locals when stores run low on supplies. Kava is stolen from gardens because young people here love to drink it but are too lazy to plant it for themselves. A lot of Aneityumese have given up attempting to raise chickens because of the amount that end up being stolen in the night.

Aneityum is more developed than most other islands and has more of a cash economy. That is why theft is such a problem here as opposed to other islands. Compared to other countries, the crime rate is very, very low still. However, when people steal in such a small community- they are stealing from their own families in most cases.

There was a big incident last week involving a notorious thief named August. He is just a boy, maybe 18 years old if I had to guess. He is known for smoking marijuana heavily and is rather dim-witted. Sometimes he stumbles around the village high. Supposedly, some yachties from Australia gave him and his delinquent brothers a baggy of cocaine to experiment with last month ("Australians, sigh...."). August got high one night and decided to steal from his own grandparent's store. He broke in and stole a thousand dollars in a locked box. He also took tin meat and other food from the store.

A family member found the stolen tin meat hidden under August's house last week. The theft was reported to August's sick grandfather, named William, who owns the store. William has been seriously ill for some time, so he gathered his strength and a walking stick to confront the boy. There was a lot of yelling, which resulted in August actually throwing two stones at his grandfather. After hearing some commotion, August's uncle emerged from a prayer meeting to observe the boy assaulting his own grandfather. This uncle put down his Bible in the grass and joined the fight.

With the aid of the boy's uncle, William beat August with his walking stick. If not crazy enough of a scene, a bloody August limped away from the fight to burn down his own house in order to hide evidence of further theft and stolen property.

There are many other stories equally as strange that I have been witnessing the past two years. I am almost used to it by this point, which may be the strangest thing of all.

Theft on Aneityum - Part I (1/11/10)

2010-02-05T00:14:00.003+11:00

Contrary to what most tourists believe after their brief visits here, Aneityum has its problems too. Yes it may look like tropical paradise, but the same vices and dangers lurk here as they do most every place on earth. Being catered to at a guest bungalow for just a week by a staff of smiling faces will not allow one to glimpse the darker side of life here.

Four days ago, I was leading a Peace Corps staff member around the village to show her some of my work in the community. During my tour, we heard screams and saw a rush of people fly by us and cluster along the end of the path. Like moths to a light bulb, we too were drawn to the commotion. We joined the crowd to witness a man beating another man. He was screaming out in local language, kicking a man named Brian, who lay on the ground shielding his face with one hand. Brian did not try to fight back. The man pummeled Brian until he was tired, for maybe two minutes and the crowd did nothing to interfere with the beating. To understand why this was happening, you need to know a little bit about Brian.

Brian is a renowned thief. He is in his late twenties. His beard is in braids, giving him a Johnny Depp pirate look. He can easily be identified because of a "skunk spot" or patch of skin on his chin that is an off-pigment white. So half of his beard is colored gray. Brian has fathered children on the other side of the island, but does not provide for or live with his offspring. He does not have a job, sell goods to tourists, work in the garden or hold any position in the community. However, he can be often seen spending large amounts of money at local stores and the nakamal. Brian makes his livelihood purely by stealing.

He has been a thief for years now, taking thousands of dollars over time. The past few weeks, he has been on a crime spree as it is rumored he is trying to fund an up-coming trip to the island of Tanna. Twelve hundred dollars were stolen from a small village two weeks ago, locals found his footprints nearby the scene of the crime. Around $300 was taken from a small church store and then given to one of his friends, who later confessed. Three cartons of of stolen cigarettes caused the beating that I witnessed. But the list of his thefts is endless. He stole an iPod from Latham, the volunteer who left in July. He has stolen from both of my host families during the time that I have lived here.

Villagers believe that Brian uses black magic to aid in his theft, such as using crushed human bones to open locked doors. He is accomplished at picking locks whatever his method is. There is usually little consequence to his actions as well. The money is typically spent so that it can never be returned. A custom fine (kava, pigs, mats) is issued by the council of chiefs, but his family usually ends up paying that on Brian's behalf. Many victims say that they will fight Brian after a theft, but he usually hides on the other side of the island long enough until tempers cool. He is rumored to use a kastom leaf that makes people forget their anger. After years of stealing, the beating I witnessed last week was the first time someone had physically confronted him. I am not sure it made much of an impact though, Brian went out to drink kava that same afternoon with a swollen face and black eye.

Reports have been filed to the police numerous times. However, there are no police stationed here on Aneityum. When police men make their sporadic visits to the island, Brian usually runs off to hide in the bush. He might actually be arrested one day if only the police did not spend a majority of their time and government per diem drinking kava when they come here.

According to locals, hundreds of years ago, the ruling chief of Aneityum ordered that a certain family be eliminated because of their vices. Almost everyone in this family was killed, except for one man that escaped. His family line is blamed for most of the criminal activity that occurs on Aneityum today. Brian is a direct descendant of this man and he has many troubled brothers as well. Whether there is a genetic cause to his misbehavior or rather it is a learned trait is left for debate.

The council of chiefs is ineffective at providing discipline and there is growing frustration about the police inaction. Now the community is considering breaking one of Brian's arm as a punishment and warning to other thieves. Pretty crazy, but I can't say that I am all together against the idea.

Footprints (1/10/10)

2010-02-04T00:17:00.001+11:00

Locals here have an uncanny ability to read footprints and tell who left them. Footprints along the sand beach, clay or mud paths reveal much information to a skilled observer. Shoe or no shoe, width / length, shape, angle of imprint, distance of stride. All of these attributes allow them to know who left the print.

Many of these footprints look identical to me but locals see them as unique calling cards left by individuals. I have been on walks with locals who see a foot print in the road and then tell me it was left by so and so. Knowing that there are hundreds of people on the island who walk along the same path and have the same foot size, I took their comments as guess work. But when later bumping into the same person as predicted along the path, I have been proven wrong.

Villagers like to write messages in the sand with their bush knife too as they walk along for following passersby to observe. Sometimes they carve their names into coconut trees or stones along the path, a form of island graffiti. As a joke, I occasionally write "Nuputonga" (local language for white man) in the sand with my machete and draw an arrow to indicate which direction I am walking.

A New Year, A New Blog (1/3/10)

2010-02-03T06:22:00.003+11:00

I apologize for not being diligent with my blog postings lately. One factor behind the sparse updates is the terrible phone service we have been experiencing for the last few months. Dial-up internet has not been working. The national phone company will not send a worker here to repair the line, instead they have given us advice over a HF radio on how to tinker with the antenna ourselves. Staring at the jumble of phone cables and banging the outside of the fuse box with a hammer have yielded negligible results.

I shall try to make up for lost blog time with more frequent updates here on out.

I am now the only "white man" on the island. The only other Peace Corps Volunteer in my village requested to be transferred to another island for personal reasons. And the Californians who were attempting to translate the Bible into Aneityum's local language have just left Vanuatu for good. They had originally planned to stay 20 some years to complete their work, but after a year, had a change of heart. Many problems interfered with their work: medical, housing, communication- and finally, locals were gossiping about the woman because she was previously married and divorced for reasons they deemed unworthy. The departure of these middle-aged Americans marks a new sort of independence for me here, as they alone fit the role of traditional parental figures. Grace was always telling me to be careful about something and giving me leftover food to heat up.

Though I am the only "white man" now, this does not mean that I am lonely. I am surrounded by local friends and host family. The holidays have kept me busy, I spent Christmas and New Years on the island. Extended families gather together for every meal this time of year at the "holiday table." It is kind of like Thanksgiving dinner in the USA, but instead, it occurs 3 times a day and with less turkey and cranberry sauce. There is an excess of kava to drink. I have even had a few cold beers thanks to a forward thinking man who had a few cartons shipped over and a generator with which to power a deep freezer. At night, you can hear groups called "punannies" that go around serenading the village with church and holiday songs. (If one of the "punannies" perform for you, you are expected to douse everyone with baby powder and give out small gifts such as soap and tin fish to show your appreciation.) Some rowdy groups of boys scream out in the middle of the night after enjoying a little too much home brew.

There have been several cruise ships lately, so locals have been making their livelihood off the tourists. Soccer season is officially at a close. My team won first place and I scored a goal in each of the last two games of the knockout tournament. I have a new puppy (my third attempt at dog ownership) that I named Superman, the nickname of the infamous English yachtie that was on Aneityum. He is white with beige marking on his face. Fleas have been doing a number on him- even when I use flea shampoo, he picks up hundreds more the next day when mingling with other dogs.

I am reading "Lord Jim" by Joseph Conrad and am halfway through Season 4 of the Sopranos on DVD (quite addictive). Mangos rain down in my backyard after strong winds. I am sick of eating mangos now, but I know that I will crave them again the moment they go out of season. Lately I have become somewhat of an accomplished fisherman; when I want to eat fish, I go stand out on the edge of a shelf reef and cast out into the turquoise waters until I hook my lunch.

Have completely set up four out of five solar projects. Waiting for some additional materials to be sent before I finish the last installation. Will write more about that later. Work with the timber project should resume tomorrow, January 4th. There is much to do.

Anyhow, that is all for now... Happy belated holidays and I hope everyone is enjoying 2010 thus far!

Behind Enemy Lines

2009-11-29T11:43:00.006+11:00

An ex-patriot is someone who chooses to leave their home country and live abroad. They are called expats for short. We have many expats here in Port Vila, a majority hailing from either France or Australia. Generally, I do not care for expats. Many are rude to the local Ni-Vanuatu and treat them like servants or second hand citizens.

Some expats have lived here in Port Vila for years and have never bothered to learn any Bislama, the national language of Vanuatu. They have their own cliques and social circles, never mixing with the local population surrounding them. They are far removed from typical life here in Vanuatu and may only interact with locals who serve as maids, cooks and security guards. I have heard expats refer to locals as “lazy” or “stupid” and have grown angry overhearing some with the audacity to actually utter racial slurs such as “monkeys” or “niggers”.

On cruise ship days in Aneityum, Australian tourists pile off the boat and drunkenly stumble around the island. On one memorable occasion, I was having lunch on a cruise ship day, a piece of laplap (ground manioc mixed with coconut milk) wrapped in a banana leaf, when a tourist approached me and asked what I was eating. After informing her, she said, “Well is looks like someone just took a shite in that leaf.” Not knowing exactly how to respond to that, I just stared at her until she waddled off and started searching for souvineers.

There are exceptions of course, some expats and tourists are just fine. But I say all of this just to relate to you the mindset I had been forming of Australians. Perhaps unrightfully, I was building up stereotypes in my mind. Gone was the fun-loving, crocodile wrestling, kangaroo-boxing, Foster’s drinking Aussie throwing shrimp on the barbie. This image was replaced by a racist, pretentious, drunkard with a preference for extremely short shorts and long rubber boots. Fair enough, the sample of Australians that I was polling was not have been representative of their country as a whole. Tourists of any nationality are disdained usually and the lax governance and tax shelters in Vanuatu have attracted a large number of criminals to Port Vila.

But you can imagine how I felt when my family informed me that we would be vacationing in Sydney, Australia. I would be plucked from tropical paradise and inserted into a city teeming with Australians, over four million of them! For the sake of reuniting with my family, I kept my negative thoughts to myself and bravely boarded a flight into enemy territory.

Further adding to my discomfort, I was transitioning from a third world country directly to a 5 star hotel in the bustling, hip, downtown district of the city. I arrived a day before my family’s flight from the USA, so my survival behind enemy lines would be entirely in my hands. A bellhop opened the taxi door for me and tried to take my battered luggage from me. I insisted upon carrying it, as I had not exchanged any currency yet with which to tip him. I was suddenly self-conscious of the stains and wrinkles in my attire, which had seemed more than adequate just several hours ago in Vanuatu. A graduation party was mulling in the lobby, looking spotless in brand new tuxedos and evening gowns.

I checked in at the front desk and tried to take the elevator to my room on the tenth floor. Little did I know, for security purposes, my room key had to be inserted on the elevator’s card slot in order to reach my desired location. Puzzled, I rode up and down the elevator, passing the tenth floor several times before an Aussie business woman took pity on me and showed me how to reach the 10^th floor. Her act of kindness did not go unnoticed, perhaps these Australians were not so bad after all.

Throughout the following week, the Australians I met proved to be very genuine, friendly people. My family and I enjoyed our stay in Sydney. We did the basic touristy things: the Sydney Opera House, the Sydney Harbor Bridge Walk, the wildlife refuge, aquarium, a wine tour to Hunter Valley. A steady diet of fatty foods and delicious beer fattened me up a bit as well.

On our wine tour of Hunter Valley, an older Aussie man told me that he had been on a cruise to Vanuatu. “Lovely people there, aren’t they? They are so simple.”

I bit my toungue and agreed, knowing that he was intending to insult them.

The family in front of the Opera House

New Pictures... and Medical Test Results

2009-11-11T16:41:00.002+11:00

The link below leads to some newer pictures taken over the last few months. Enjoy...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2032821&id=75800509&l=c44f5746e7

PS- Try not to let the pictures of my swollen head disturb you. They were taken long ago and my condition has improved much since then. I still have some swelling once every 1-2 weeks, but it is very minor in comparison to these pictures.

The medical tests came back from Thailand and I tested negative for gnathostoma. The doctors are still unsure of what is going on with me. Kind of waiting it out right now, hoping that things continue to improve. I have not been on any sort of medication for months. If I have any more problems, Peace Corps will take care of me quickly. I would be medically separated and flown back to the US for further examination.

Anyhow, I appreciate all prayers and kind thoughts sent my direction...

Big Fish

2009-11-10T09:08:00.003+11:00

I caught this decent sized Blue Fin Trevally with a silver spoon and a broken light-weight fishing pole. It put up quite a fight, I thought I would lose it on the reef, but luckily enough, I did not. Another Peace Corps Volunteer named Bob who is staying with me for the week was there to whack it with a machete, I would have had a difficult time landing this fish alone. My friend John fried it up for us and made a fish / coconut milk soup that was delicious.

I am in Port Vila working on a newsletter for Peace Corps and then waiting to meet my family in Sydney later this month...

Edward the English Yachtie, Part 2

2009-10-30T06:41:00.001+11:00

About a year ago, I wrote about an English couple living on Aneityum. If you only occasionally read this blog or have a foggy memory, allow me to briefly recap the tale of Edward and Susan.
Edward and Susan came to Aneityum on their yacht. They befriended the island’s tourism committee after several visits and were asked to stay and assist tourism efforts. The couple had been living in and out of Vanuatu for seven years and did not speak any Bislama. The tourism project paid their hefty living allowances, phone bills and yacht storage fees. In exchange, the two tried to help locals with computer lessons, craft-making workshops and book-keeping for the tourism office.
Edward and Susan were not well-liked by the community. Particularly Edward. He is a very argumentative man and on one memorable occasion he pulled down his trousers and mooned a local man in front of a large crowd of women and children. The man responded by kicking Edward directly in his buttocks with steel-toed boots. Although he is an older man, Edward was in several other physical altercations with villagers, throwing a coconut at someone’s head once.
Edward is a fascinating case study on how NOT to integrate with one’s community. He posted memos on community bulletin boards requesting that villagers control their dogs at night and tried to block a women’s choir from singing because of the noise. Eventually, the council of chiefs here exiled the couple, adding Aneityum to the list of islands in Vanuatu where Edward and Susan are not welcome.
Their story does not end here though. In September, Edward sailed back to the Aneityum on his yacht in order to collect belongings that he had left behind.
One could not help but feel sorry for Edward, as Susan, his long-time life partner, had separated from him. Thus, Edward arrived with an older Australian man to help him work the yacht. Immediately upon their arrival, Edward and this Aussie got in many verbal spats in front of the entire village. The upset Aussie snuck away from Edward one day and flew back to Australia, leaving the Englishman stranded without a deckhand.
Edward ended up staying on Aneityum for a month until a local man volunteered to help him sail to Brisbane. There were confrontations throughout this time of course. I'm afraid I even managed to upset Edward myself with a practical joke. One day, I noticed that Edward's had left his light-weight dingy anchored on the beach while he was visiting a friend on the island. Sensing an opportunity, I carried the dingy from the beach onto the middle of the neighboring football field, only 30 yards away, with the aid of some local children who thought the plan to be hilarious.
The next day, a member of the tourism committee arrived on my front porch. This man was Edward's biggest if not only supporter on the island. He wanted me to perform a custom "sorry ceremony" because Edward was so upset about my moving his boat. I refused, citing that it was a practical joke and that it probably took Edward less than 30 seconds to return his dingy to the water. I apologized to the local man though, saying I meant no harm to him or the community. Edward spent the next few weeks telling locals that I had "violated his human rights" and could not be trusted.
Edward said on parting that he plans to return to Vanuatu in the near future to perform more “volunteer work.” Let us hope that he has a change of heart, both for his sake and also for the people of Vanuatu.

Tsunami Warnings (10/12/9)

2009-10-30T06:14:00.001+11:00

The world's ever-shifting tectonic plates have been actively shuffling about lately, causing volcanic rumblings, earthquakes and tsunamis throughout the Pacific. American Samoa and Sumatra were both hit first by 8.0 magnitude earthquakes and tsunamis on September 30th, while Vanuatu had an equally powerful quake on October 8th.

On Aneityum, we were under an active tsunami warning following the quake in America Samoa. Although we are about 1,300 miles away from American Samoa, advisories were warning that a large tidal wave could possibly hit our island mid-day on October 1st, about 12 hours after the earthquake initially struck.

My next-door neighbors on Aneityum just so happen to work for the government's Meteorology Department, so they were the first to receive the warnings over their high-frequency radio. As news of the destruction in American Samoa spread throughout the village, a large number of people showed up on my front lawn to listen to ongoing reports of the tsunami warning. The Peace Corps staff at our Port Vila office sent warnings over my personal radio as well. I was advised to evacuate to the hillsides if possible.

The tsunami warning came at an inconvenient time though when our community timber project was scheduled to have a meeting with its Board of Directors. We were all gathered at the timber office that morning, pondering a relocation to the hillsides, when villagers started yelling nearby the beach. We left the office and walked towards the water, where the tide was unusually low. The salty water was retreating back to the reef at an alarming speed, revealing parts of the coral reef that locals had never seen above water. Fish could be seen flopping in small pools, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the tide. I nervously recalled seeing similar video footage of the beaches in Thailand before the devastating tsunami struck there several years ago.

After five minutes of the tide racing out at break-neck speed, it reversed. The current surged forward towards us. There were no incoming waves, just a steady gush of water that broke further inshore than normal. Most of the villagers just stared out over the water, even the elderly had not seen the water behave like this before. A local politician got on a megaphone and asked that everyone evacuate to the hillsides just to be safe. Groups of mothers and children packed up bags quickly and began hiking to safer elevations.

I sat down on the beach scanning the outer reef for signs of our impending doom. A small island and fringing barrier reef protects the small harbor where I live, which offered some reassurance. The tide continued to alternate between extremely high and extremely low every five minutes. A friend ran out on the reef and stabbed a red snapper with his machete when the low tide presented the opportunity, roasting it on the beach afterwards. My neighbor then updated us that the tsunami warning was canceled for Vanuatu, but that the tide would continue acting unusually for several hours.

We had another scare just last week, from a strong quake that shook the northern part of Vanuatu. The Meteorology Department issued tsunami warnings for just two islands in the entire country: Aneityum and Santo. Being on Aneityum, I was not pleased to hear this.

The images of casualties and debris left behind from the tsunami in American Samoa were still fresh in our mind. And this equally powerful earthquake occurred much, much closer to us as well. An audibly shaken Peace Corps staff member told me to remain calm and not panic over the radio. I was perfectly calm until I heard how frightened she sounded when asking me to remain calm.

Tsunamis warnings never seem to fit conveniently into our schedule on Aneityum, it was a public holiday when this happened. Hundreds of people were gathered at the low-lying soccer fields for the day's festivities. I relayed the latest information I had received from Peace Corps about the tsunami to local leaders, who announced over the loud speaker that the celebration would be delayed. Another Peace Corps volunteer named Katie was staying at my house for the week, she had flown in to do some workshops on monitoring the health of coral reefs. Together, we hiked upwards for twenty minutes until we reached a local friend's house. I brought along a small stampa of kava as my emergency rations. Some younger children chewed the kava for myself, Katie and two friends. It is unusual to drink kava in the middle of the day, but it was a public holiday after all. We all relaxed under the influence of kava and awaited a killer tidal wave from the safety of a large hill.

Little did we know, this tsunami alert was canceled almost immediately after we began our hike up the hillside. The earthquake had occured in a very deep place in the Pacific, thus preventing the formation of a tsunami. We waited a few hours on the hillside until it was safe to come down and thankfully had a very anti-climatic end to our tsunami scare.

The Circumcision (10/02/9)

2009-10-03T04:25:00.001+11:00

Peace Corps Volunteers sometimes finish their service and feel like they are leaving a part of themselves behind in Vanuatu. This will be the literal truth for Arthur Bassett, whose foreskin was planted along with a young coconut tree in the rich soil of Tanna. Arthur was circumcised in his village in accordance with the kastom practices of Middle Bush, Tanna. Thus, he has become a legend.
As volunteers, we are constantly being compared to one another and critiqued by the Ni-Vanuatu community. We sometimes feel challenged to prove our worth when stories of former volunteers arise. “This person walked barefoot always, this person chewed kava every night, this person was fluent in local language or this person married a local girl.” Future generations of PCV’s in Vanuatu will hear of Arthur, who sacrificed a portion of his penis in the name of community integration.
It is kastom in Tanna for a group of village boys to be circumcised with sharp bamboo and no anesthetic. Kastom leaves are then wrapped around the penis to speed the healing process, occasionally coconut oil is applied as well. The circumcised boys are not allowed to leave the kastom nakamal for two to three months until they have fully healed from the operation. Women, including the boys’ mothers, cannot make any contact with them as they are considered unclean. The boys must remain naked. They are not allowed to touch their food, they are either handfed by older men or the boys eat using a stick or leaf as a utensil. Circumcision is a major step in the lives of the boys, they gain some stature in the community and are allowed to help in the preparation of kava afterwards. The boys are normally quite young, about five to ten years of age on average.
Arthur was thirty years old when he decided to be circumcised. That he was not circumcised to begin with like a majority of American boys adds further to mysterious shroud that surrounds his childhood. His decision was not planned, but rather an impromptu choice was made after witnessing the procedure in his village. He mentioned to a villager how it might be rewarding to take part in their kastom and the next thing he knew, four men were holding down his arms and legs and he was biting a stick in anticipation of the snip. A doctor was brought in to perform the circumcision of Arthur and another young boy, so steel surgical implements were used instead of sharp bamboo.
Apparently, there are different styles of circumcision that the boys can choose from, somewhat like a haircut. The village men collectively chose the “Forget Me Not” style for Arthur. They explained that this type of circumcision would mean that any woman Arthur has sex with would never forget the experience for the remainder of her life. The “Forget Me Not” style features a prominent portion of foreskin that is left on the bottom of the penis. Men in Tanna relish in sharing that circumcisions performed according to kastom will enable the participants to have strong and lengthy sex lives as opposed to “white man” circumcisions performed at hospitals that weaken a man.
Arthur was not naked for the three weeks he remained in the kastom nakamal. Instead he fastened just a “para para” or calico cloth around his waist. However, the villagers were constantly trying to have Arthur remove his “para para” so that they could inspect the “Forget Me Not” handiwork up close. Arthur slept on a coconut leaf mat by a fire with the five other boys in his group that were circumcised. The only time the group left the kastom nakamal was to go shower in a nearby waterfall. Arthur used a leaf or stick to handle his food. He drank a shell of kava most nights and listened to stories from village elders to pass the time.
At the end of Arthur’s three-week wait in the nakamal, he and the boys would take part in a ceremony marking the end of the healing process and their reintroduction to the village. People from every area of Tanna would gather in the nakamal to dance and drink kava for an entire night until sunrise. This was an event not to be missed. After recovering from my initial shock upon hearing of Arthur’s circumcision, I immediately made plans to attend. Alexia, Bob, Noah, Sandra and RPCV Erica were also in attendance.
We arrived in Middle Bush the night before the big ceremony. The women were ushered some place to eat and practice kastom dancing, while we men went straight to the nakamal to see Arthur. Arthur looked healthy and in good spirits, although I did not inspect his “Forget Me Not” cut for myself. The sun was beginning to set, so coconut shells overflowing with kava were pushed into our hands. I was able to eat a steaming hot piece of tuluk before the kava kicked and I lost my appetite. The men practiced dancing as well and we spent the evening discussing Arthur’s eventful past three weeks.
The ceremony began the next day after lunchtime. Hundreds and hundreds of people from all over Tanna were there. Gigantic stampas of kava lined the perimeter of the nakamal and monstrous pigs lay bound and squealing in the dust. Coconut mats and calicos were piled into mounds as an offering for recent weddings that had taken place. Initially, I thought that I would just be a spectator at this event but the villagers insisted that Bob, Noah and myself take part in Arthur’s ceremony too. Our faces were painted in retina-burning hues, feathers were placed in our hair, leaves were draped across our chest and arms and we were given “para paras” to wear. I suspect that we looked rather ridiculous. All of the village men and the circumcised boys lined up and marched gravely to the center of the nakamal, where the women and people from other villages were waiting eagerly to see us. We circled the mounds of bridal offerings as enormous wooden clubs bashed at the skulls of nearby pigs without mercy.
The women were also dressed up for the occasion. Alexia and Sandra had bright face paint and dry grass skirts that made a whishing noise when dancing. The long column of men formed a circle and the kastom dancing began. It was a sneak preview of the all-night dance-a-thon that was to take place that evening. Bob and I struggled to keep our stomping and clapping in sync with the others while Arthur performed flawlessly. The first dance was over in less than ten minutes and then food and gifts were divvied out to different groups. Our Peace Corps group received a handful of mats and baskets, Fiji taro, a decent sized pig and a stampa of kava. We retreated to Arthur’s house to roast the pig and chew the kava before nightfall.
We returned to the nakamal around nine, stomachs pleasantly full from kava and pork. The dancing began in earnest then. I have never been a strong advocate of dancing in the past, but this was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The ground really shook as hundreds of men stomped at the same time. Our clapping in unison sounded like gunshots. Dust hung heavy in the air as we danced beneath the banyan tree and it gave a surreal look to the proceedings through the hazy glare of fluorescent lights. We were all in a trance, connected with the ancestors of Tanna who had performed this same ritual for centuries now.
The night went on and on. The dancers never lost enthusiasm throughout the ceremony, in fact, they became livelier as time passed. Arthur chewed kava for me again around 2 AM and then a village chief insisted I drink with him at 4 AM. We lost Bob to giardia, Noah to an excess of kava and Sandra and Erica succumbed to fatigue. Alexia, Arthur and I danced onwards.
As the sun began to rise, I was a jumble of mixed feelings. I felt sore from stomping continuously for eight hours, hungover, delirious from sleep deprivation and happy to have made it through the night. But most of all I felt humbled and honored to be able to take part in the ceremony, which clearly meant a lot to the people of Tanna. While I am not envious of the discomfort Arthur must have experienced after the circumcision or the stern lecture he must have received from our Peace Corps office, it was clear that the past few weeks had strengthened his relationship with the community. I was proud of the crazy bastard.

Trip to Anaowanse

2009-09-22T22:48:00.001+11:00

I recently went on a brief trip to the north-western part of the island called Anaowanse. I went with a friend by the name of Darao. Darao is in his mid-twenties, has three children now with one on the way and is the scaler for our community timber project. He is skinny, has braided hair and a pure white pupil-less left eye as the result of a childhood injury. He is always laughing and has provided me with much invaluable instruction, especially in regard to swearing in the local language.

We left in mid-morning, as we were not particularly in a hurry. It was a four hour hike to get there. Half of the trek was along postcard- worthy beaches, where we practiced throwing our machetes at any coconuts strewn about our path. Darao was much better at this than I was. My machete usually ended up bouncing handle-first nowhere near my target, where as he could pierce a coconut from 20 yards away without trying.

The second half of the trek involved hiking up steep clay hillsides, lined with giant boulders. The wind whipped at our backs and I became quite chilly with my sweaty t-shirt clinging to me. There were several nice vistas along the way, which offered a glimpse of the neighboring island of Tanna lying amidst the infinite Pacific Ocean, volcanic ash spewing upwards from Mount Yassur on its eastern coast. Darao showed me a few spots of significant cultural value. At one cliffside, I saw where locals summon a demon spirit that takes the form of a giant sea turtle. He demonstrated by shouting down language insults to summon the demon turtle; and sure enough, we saw a turtle come to the surface. Whether his incantation worked or rather, this area of the coral reef is just teeming with sea turtles shall remain a mystery. We walked by stones with ancient graffiti chiseled into them from hundreds of years ago. I was instructed to collect certain leaves from a bush we passed along the road and place them in my pocket because of a custom belief that doing so would make a long walk feel shorter. This proved to be ineffective, as the four hour hike felt exactly like four hours to me.

When we arrived at Darao's family compound in Anaowanse, we immediately went out on the shelf reef in search of a lunch time snack. It was low tide, a perfect time to scavenge a meal from the sea. I unsuccessfully tried fishing with my shoe laces and a long bamboo cane. Darao used his bush knife to pry off giant clams called nautili from the reef. He offered the white, meaty muscle part of the clam for me to eat raw and it tasted better than a majority of the sushi I have eaten in my life. I gave up on fishing and joined Darao in digging up small clams in the sand, which we roasted in their shells around a fire. Delicious.

We sat on the beach and drank green coconuts, telling stories until Darao's father, brother-in-law and cousin arrived. His family had come to this part of the island in order to dig a few sandalwood trees on their property and sell them to a trader. We all spent the night sleeping outside around a fire, using dry banana leaves as a mattress. A wild pig disturbed our sleep in the middle of the night and Darao and his family were upset that they had not brought a dog along because we might have had pork for breakfast had they done so. Around 3 AM, while I was in a deep coma-like slumber, the group arose to go catch sleeping fish on the reef, which they spotted by waving coconut frond torches over the water. I sampled their catch the following day.

Initially, I wanted to spend a week in Anaowanse, but I started to come down with a nasty cold. When I awoke the following day I was feeling sick and I decided that sleeping outside in the elements was not helping to improve my condition. So I left the next day to return home, having enjoyed my short stay in Anaowanse.

Colorful

2009-09-17T13:43:00.004+11:00

I caught this fish after walking to the edge of the shelf reef at low tide and throwing out a silver spoon. My host family boiled it in coconut milk and it made for an excellent dinner. I do not know its English name, but it is called "Naomat" in Aneityumese.

Solar Success & Circumcision Celebrations

2009-09-17T13:07:00.003+11:00

The solar power grant for my island is now fully funded! Thank you to everyone who made a contribution or helped spread the word about the project. Around $5,000 was raised (25% from the community itself), which will go towards funding solar lighting systems for five different community buildings: 2 churches, a women's center, the timber project's office and a dining hall.

I will be sure to post pictures when the solar systems are up and running on Aneityum.

Just over a week ago, I found out that the funding was complete and that a check was waiting for me to sign in Port Vila. I wanted to wait until November to fly in, cash the check and buy the solar equipment- but the community was very impatient for me to leave immediately. At their urging, I flew into town Monday and have been running around non-stop ever since. Tuesday, I spent most of the day at the bank and yesterday, I went on a $4,000 solar shopping spree. The timing was right as a ship is just about to leave for Aneityum, so most of the gear has been loaded on board, with the exception of the solar panels that have been sent by plane since they are more fragile.

Tomorrow, I fly to the island of Tanna where I will spend a week before returning to Aneityum. A fellow volunteer there has taken part in a custom circumcision ceremony. He was circumcised according to custom, sharp bamboo and no anesthetic. His name is Arthur and yes I think he is crazy. He was circumcised along with a large group of boys from the island and there is a big celebration and feast being thrown in their collective honor. So attending this celebration was half of my motivation for flying into town at the last moment. I will also spend a few days staring at Mt. Yassur, which is hailed as "the world's most accessible volcano." Should be a good trip!

"Our Pets Heads Are Falling Off"

2009-09-08T01:52:00.001+11:00

The title of this blog entry comes from a memorable line in the movie Dumb and Dumber, if I have quoted it correctly. It seemed rather fitting, as our pets lead a very difficult life on the island of Aneityum....

Two months ago, my fellow volunteer Latham was preparing to return to the US with his wife when his dog was eaten by a group of boys in our village. The dog was named JD, after the main character in the TV show Scrubs. He was a very friendly and energetic dog who also had the unfortunate characteristic of being rather large for an island dog (no doubt because Latham fed him very well). JD made the mistake of passing by a group of rebellious and hungry 15-18 year old "rascals" one day. They proceeded to call him close and then speared him. JD was roasted over a fire and eaten.

Respect is an extremely big deal in Melanesian culture. Normally, we volunteers (AKA the white man) are afforded a high level of respect which extends all the way down to our pets. Villagers are afraid to discipline our dogs should they steal food from the cookhouse, jump on them or, heaven forbid, bite them. So for this group to kill Latham's dog, it was a blatantly disrespectful slap in the face. Ordinarily, they would have been brought to the council of chiefs on our island, but Latham did not want to deal with the drama during his final week on Aneityum.

My puppy Panda, which I posted pictures of on this blog, also died around the same time. Latham was looking after him while I was on sick leave in Port Vila, when Panda suddenly became sick and stopped eating. I was less attached this time around, as I only had Panda for a few weeks before I left. But still upsetting, as this appears to be a trend now.

My cat Lil Wayne is missing in action. Three months ago, someone shot him directly in the face with a slingshot. Probably neighborhood kids. She was in pretty bad shape for a while but I took care of her until her gigantic sore healed. Then I left for the US. I have been told that a neighbor gave the cat away to a village girl just a week after my departure. I will be tracking Lil Wayne down the next few days.

Vila Town Bak Again

2009-08-19T09:42:00.005+11:00

I arrived back in Vanuatu about 36 hours ago. The flight over the Pacific was not so bad. Having an empty seat next to me and drinking a healthy dose of beer helped me to actually get a little bit of sleep in on the 15 hour haul to Sydney.

I stepped off the plane expecting to be overcome with a surge of humidity and heat. Instead, it was almost chilly with clear, sunny skies. Ideal. I arrived in on Monday evening and a group of volunteers and friends were already waiting at a nakamal to welcome me back with a round of kava. I slept very well after taking a few shells.

Yesterday, I ran lots of errands around town. I was constantly running into familiar faces who were very happy to see that I had returned. Port Vila is a very small city, so it is almost impossible not to bump into someone you know. I saw some of my host family from the village of Epau, who I have promised to go visit at the market today. Hopefully they will give me lots of free mangos and bananas.

I visited the hospital to see a man named Ben from Aneityum who was badly burned in a house fire. A candle was left burning in his house, and the entire structure went up in flames. When Ben heard that his house was on fire, he ran back home to see if his children were inside. Thankfully no one was home. However, the door collapsed behind Ben and he had to force open a window to escape. He was burned all over in the process. He should be able to walk in a few days and is fully conscious, so I hope his recovery goes smoothly.

I went out with a Peace Corps staff member last night for kava and dinner. We went to his family's nakamal, where we got the royal treatment. People were buying us drinks and bringing us local island food. My Bislama was not as rusty as I thought it would be.

Seeing so many smiling faces yesterday constantly reminded me why I wanted to come back to Vanuatu so badly. I fly to Aneityum tomorrow morning! If the phone lines are working, I might be able to post a blog entry next week...

Back to the South Pacific

2009-08-15T09:08:00.004+11:00

I fly back to the South Pacific tomorrow! The doctors here in DC believe that I have a parasite from eating undercooked fish, called gnathastoma. This has not been confirmed by testing yet, actually my blood sample was just sent out today to Thailand, the only country that has a lab capable of testing for this. It could take weeks to get the results back (it took weeks just to send out the sample). Based on the symptoms though, I was prescribed medication that I will continue to take for the next 6 weeks.

The swelling still occurs on a regular basis, about every 7-10 days. But now the swelling is much smaller than it previously was. The doctors think that it is not life-threatening, so they feel comfortable sending me back. Since there does not seem to be much more they can do for me here, I figure I might as well try to return to work and move on with my life. Hopefully the swelling will go away as I continue to take the medication.

If I have any more medical problems, Peace Corps will continue to take care of me. However, I would be medically separated and my service would come to an end should I need to seek treatment again. I would not have the option to return to Vanuatu.

Anyhow, since most of the time I do not have any symptoms, much of this Medevac trip has felt like a vacation. My family flew up to DC for a week, I reunited with an aunt and uncle that live close by as well as a cousin I had not seen in nearly 10 years. Ate lots of good food (I have gained 20 pounds in the past 3 months), perhaps too much. Met with friends from high school and college. Saw a ton of movies and caught up with the music world. Got to golf, go to baseball games, enjoy some picnics and barbecues. Flew down to Florida for the week, where I had an emotional reunion with my mom's Dachshund. I even got to introduce powered kava to some friends.

It is great to have support from friends and family- and I know I would be unable to fly back tomorrow without that. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me these past few months! It is deeply appreciated...

More on Kava

2009-08-04T00:13:00.004+11:00

The following is an excerpt about drinking kava, from "Getting Stoned with Savages" by J. Maarten Troost, which I highly recommend reading if you are interested in Vanuatu:

Clearly this was different from drinking wine. With kava, one didn't admire its lush hue, or revel in its aromatic bouquet, or note the complex interplay of oak and black currant. This was more like heroin. Its consumption was something to be endured. The effect was everything. What concerned me, however, was not the taste but the possibility that this bowl of swirling brown liquid may have had as one of its essential ingredients the spit of unseen boys, which, frankly, I found a little off-putting.

"That's the best way to prepare kava" Dirk said. "It's very strong that way. There is something about chewing the root that really releases its strength. But here they simply grind the root to a pulp, and then they squeeze it through a sock and mix it with water."

A sock. I was beginning to realize that kava is like the sausage of the Pacific. One really didn't want to know how it was made.

I watched the Ni-Vanuatu men imbibe their shells and was struck by how different the culture of kava was here compared with elsewhere in the South Pacific. Kava is found on most of the islands of Melanesia and Polynesia. It is typically consumed communally, with men gathered around a large bowl, and a host passing a single shell among guests. No formal event in Fiji or Tonga occurs without kava. But mostly, kava is used as a social lubricant. It is not uncommon for men in Fiji to spend an entire day around the kava bowl, shooting the shit, as it were, as they consume upwards of thirty shells.

It's different in Vanuatu. No one drinks kava during the day. Not even the kavaheads, the true addicts. It is only taken around dusk and into the early hours of the evening.

I brought the kava bowl to my lips. The odor was earthy and peppery, almost toxic, a bitter brew, and to send it down my gullet seemed unnatural, as if defying a hard-gained evolutionary warning trigger, the one that says that this is surely poison. I managed to swallow half the bowl before my stomach protested. I paused for a moment, asked my gut to refrain from sending the kava back up, because that would be really embarrassing, and when my stomach complied, I finished the remaining kava, emitting a groaning, squinting, incoherent curse, as child might when forced to swallow acrid medicine. I returned my bowl to the kava shed, dimly noticing that it was taken and rinsed in a bucket of murky water, then stacked with the other bowls, awaiting the next used. Had I refreshed my hepatitis shots? I wondered. I couldn't remember.

It wasn't long before I felt suffused with pleasant calmness, a contentment with my world. I wasn't certain whether this was attributable to the kava or the inarguable fact that I was in a pleasant place, in the company of pleasant people, and that I was in on the whole rather pleased with my world, sober or stoned. A blue twilight had overtaken the last embers of sunset, and the first stars of the evening appeared. More men had arrived at the nakamal, and I half-expected to hear a hearty clamor, like that found in a bar after work, the happy foolery and repressed griping of people finally released from their obligations. But instead the din became ever more muted as the kava did its work.

Thank You - Solar Project

2009-08-03T09:58:00.003+11:00

I wanted to thank everyone who has donated money thus far to the project, "Let There Be Light!, which will bring solar-powered lighting to community buildings on Aneityum. I will not be given a list of all the donors until the total sum is collected, so I am unable to thank you individually for now. But when I receive a list of all the donors, I will be sure to write and update you all on the progress of the project.

So far, $1,637 have been donated. $1,790 remains to be collected. So almost at the half-way point!

You can donate by clicking on the following link:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=461-027

If anyone is thinking about sending me a care package or gift, I ask that you make a contribution to this project instead. I have many goodies already on the island, but appreciate the thought!

Should have an update tomorrow on when I return to the island. All the best...

Kava Effects

2009-07-30T00:50:00.002+11:00

Kava is incredibly popular in Vanuatu. A majority of Peace Corps volunteers drink kava during their service as it helps to integrate with the community. Kava was traditionally drank only by chiefs during very important custom ceremonies. Today it is enjoyed by the common man on a regular basis, if not every night.

Again, kava is the name of the plant and the drink. The picture below shows my friend Darao digging up a "stampa" of kava, or the bundle of roots.

The roots are then cleaned, chopped into tiny pieces with a machete and either chewed by mouth or put through a hamburger grinder. Then the piles of the finely ground kava are put into a piece of cloth and squeezed as water is poured over. This water picks up all juices and strength from the kava. It is poured into a coconut shell and then consumed quickly.

The good effects of kava are as follows. Euphoria. You feel more sociable or talkative. Some people compare it to Zanax and say it is the best stress or anxiety relief there is. It produces a buzz like alcohol, but is soothing and calming unlike alcohol. When people drink alcohol around happy hour, the bar becomes a loud and sometimes violent place with people shouting to one another and acting stupidly. With kava, the more people drink, the quieter they become. Silence is encouraged at kava bars so that drinkers can "listen" to the effects of their kava. Normally there are many small side conversations taking place at the kava bar, but only in whispers.

There is a downside to kava. It causes a loss of appetite, often times an upset stomach. When I drink kava, I often have no desire for dinner. I force down something anyway, as food helps to calm your stomach the following day. A tell-tale mark of a heavy kava drinker is that they are very skinny, as they skip dinner on a regular basis. It also causes itchy, scaly patches of skin if you drink kava on a daily basis. Kava can interfere with your balance just like alcohol. It effects your vision. Sometimes you will become cross-eyed or have double vision with really strong kava. Some people complain that they cannot hear as well or they get a loud ringing in their ears. If the kava is very strong, your body can start shaking, which I have only witnessed a few times. Hangovers from kava can be terrible. You can feel sluggish and queasy for an entire day afterwards. But taken in moderation, most of these side effects can be avoided.

Kava is just unpredictable. Sometimes a shell's worth will make you extremely drunk and sometimes you can drink five or six and not feel a thing. It all depends on the strength of the plant, the amount of water mixed in during preparation and your individual body type and condition.

Lobster

2009-07-29T04:56:00.005+11:00

There are many tasty lobsters living in the coral reef surrounding Aneityum. There are two different species: the spiny nosed lobster pictured below and a smaller, but sweeter tasting flat-nosed lobster.

The locals go diving at night when the lobsters emerge from their hiding places in the reef. The conditions must be right. It has to be very dark out with almost no moonlight in order to be successful. If there is too much moonlight, the lobsters will see the divers coming and they will retreat back into their holes. The ocean cannot be too rough and there cannot have been any recent heavy rain, or else the water clarity will be too poor to spot the lobster.

The divers use under-water flashlights, normally cheap Chinese-made ones that have a battery life of about 25 minutes. If I give a diver $5 to cover the cost of batteries, normally that is the only payment required to buy a lobster on the island. The locals borrow snorkel masks and fins from the community tourism project when they dive. They must wear a thick glove to pick up the lobster, as the shell is extremely sharp and would cut their hands otherwise.

I bought an underwater flashlight when I arrived in Vanuatu because I once contemplated diving for lobsters myself. But the idea of swimming out into the pitch black abyss of the South Pacific Ocean with just a flashlight to illuminate a weak beam of light frightens me to no end. I would probably see a shark (or even just a large fish), drop my flashlight in a frenzied panic and be lost at sea.

The locals sell the lobsters to cruise ship tourists for $15-$30 depending on the size. The lobster always sells out quickly on cruise ship days. The price on the island for locals is about $2 a lobster. Even though this is a great deal, it is hard to convince someone to go diving for lobsters when they would rather wait and dive only for the cruise ship tourists. So I probably only eat lobster about once every month or two. The council of chiefs blocks certain parts of the reef from diving, so that the tourists' demand for lobster does not lead to over-harvesting. These tabu areas are rotated every so often.

(Above: a basket full of deliciousness)

Pictures

2009-07-23T06:36:00.004+11:00

Here are some newer pics you can view by clicking on the links posted below. You do not need a Facebook account to view these photos.

Photo Album #1

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2029518&id=75800509&l=dbc6343da6

Photo Album #2

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2029517&id=75800509&l=fdf5a5b234

Soccer League

2009-07-21T11:41:00.007+11:00

The people of Aneityum love soccer. Apparently, there used to be a league on the island with club teams from different villages. About three years ago, there were problems with overly competitive teams fighting and organizers of the league were accused of cheating and stealing league funds. So the league collapsed.

Being a soccer fan and wanting to play myself, I helped organize a new league. I named it "Aneityum United." It became very popular in our village.

The field in our village is unique, I have never seen one like it. Large sea oak trees tower inside the area of play. Often, a goalie will punt the ball into the tree tops, where the ball ricochets down like a pin ball machine while the game never pauses. There are patches of fine sand, which always trip me up when sprinting full speed and transitioning from the grassy areas. Holes where large crabs have burrowed dot the field like land mines, threatening to take down unobservant players. A steep incline spans the length of the field so that someone taking a corner kick is elevated above the crossbar of the goal itself.

The field is also very small. Because of this, I changed the rules so that only 7 men are allowed for each side during a game, instead of the normal 11. This has improved everyone's play quite a bit as it is much less crowded on the field.

The picture above shows some villagers watching a game. Normally we play 4 nights a week. No Friday or Saturday games are played because of the SDA Church and their strict rules about keeping the Sabbath. Sunday games are forbidden by the Presbyterian Church. I referee quite often and try to teach locals how to do so.

Aneityum United is much different from any league in the USA. Many of the players do not wear soccer shoes or shin guards. They play barefoot instead. The soccer shoes available in Vanuatu are mainly cheap Chinese counterfeits, so even if locals buy shoes, they rarely last for more than a few games before the seams bust. The teams do not wear jerseys, but instead rely on their memory to determine who is their team mate. The players can get very physical and aggressive.

The locals are natural athletes though. Most have endurance and muscular strength far above that of the average Westerner. Their active lifestyle of working in the garden and bush has molded them into phenomenal shape.

The village teams were very much divided by church and family groups before. I have tried to create new teams free from old rivalries in the previous league. We keep weekly stats on the games, which you can see in the picture below. Locals really enjoy getting a weekly update on the league's records.

Anyhow, I miss playing and hope I have a chance to restart the league when and if I return to Aneityum. Before, the league was exclusively for men, but I really hope to start a division for women soon. Aneityum women will probably be very shy and hesitant to participate at first, but it will give them a a great chance to exercise and work as a team if I can persuade them to play.

Eating Sea Turtle

2009-07-16T06:56:00.011+11:00

(Now that I have ample free time and internet access while on medical leave, I will continue to update this blog with stories from Aneityum and Vanuatu. I am tired of writing about parasites and swelling, but will continue to update this blog when I have major updates on my health and hopeful return to the island.)

The people of Aneityum love to eat sea turtles. It has been a part of their diet and custom going back thousands of years. All of the meat of the turtle is used, nothing goes to waste. In fact, fried turtle guts are considered a delicacy.

Many Westerners are offended by the practice of eating sea turtle. All species are listed as threatened or endangered, so many worry about the impact on the local population. Turtles already face a barrage of obstacles- including fragile ecosystems, loss of nesting territory due to seaside development and pollution.

The picture above was taken the first time I ever saw a sea turtle hunted on Aneityum. I admit, I was a little shocked if not disturbed when I witnessed this. Turtles are normally hunted with a spear. In this case, a man out spear fishing saw the turtle and shot it. Being an especially large turtle, he had to tie the rope which connected to the spear to an outrigger canoe. The turtle continued swimming, towing the canoe behind him, until he lost his strength.

Another technique for acquiring turtle is to have a scout sit in the front of a motor boat. Motor boats are not used often on Aneityum, as fuel is expensive and in short supply. But when they are used, they provide plenty of opportunities to encounter sea turtles swimming around the coral reef. When the scout sights a turtle, he dives into the water attempting to bear hug onto the turtle, spearing it or stabbing it with a knife until the boat returns and it can be hoisted in.

Turtles are challenging to hunt so they are not eaten often. Making an educated guess, I would say around 20 - 30 turtles are killed each year on Aneityum. Even so, the turtle population around the island seems to be thriving. I often encounter turtle myself when snorkeling out on the reef or just going in the water for a dip.

The picture above shows my friend Darao cleaning a sea turtle out on the reef. This is hard for me to watch. The turtle continues to look around and function even as it is cut into pieces and cleaned. It is impossible to put them out of their misery quickly, even cutting off their heads will not do the trick. They continue blinking and following you with their eyes for over an hour. It is eerie.

When the turtle is cleaned, it is often baked in its own shell over fire-heated stones. A large turtle provides meat for many families for several days. Meat and protein are hard to come by here, as I stated before. So if they did not eat turtle, they would not have meat many nights. It is not as if they have the option of driving to the local grocery store and buying beef or chicken.

I have eaten turtle on numerous occasions myself. The taste is unique but pleasing. If forced to describe it, I would say it tastes remotely like pork. The fried turtle guts are my favorite, much like a tastier form of bacon.

While I feel it is important to protect endangered species, it is not my place to lecture the people of Aneityum on something that has been a part of their culture for thousands of years. Especially when my own culture bears a huge responsibility for making these turtles endangered in the first place with mass fishing and development. The small amount of turtles harvested on Aneityum does not come near to the amount commercial fishing vessels in Vanuatu snag in their nets accidentally every day.

The Cut Throat Fundraiser

2009-07-15T01:46:00.006+11:00

I was walking towards a metro stop in downtown DC when a young college girl caught my attention. She was waving a pamphlet and staring straight at me.

In these situations where I am about to be solicited on the sidewalk, my mind normally goes on the defensive. It is a natural response developed from having traversed through cities for years and having been approached by an endless list of panhandlers, deviants and social crusaders. Also, the comedian Mitch Hedburg was on to something when he said, "When someone hands you a brochure, it's like they're saying, here you throw this away!"

Anyhow, once the girl with the brochure made eye contact with me, she was locked in.

"Good morning, how are you?" she said with a beaming smile.

"Good morning, I'm well, thank you," I replied as I continued walking.

"We're raising money for our global fight against poverty. Even a $20 donation would help so much," she rushed out before I could pass her on the sidewalk.

My body language was automatically telling her "No thank you" before she finished her pitch. I am sure she represented a worthy charity, though I do not know the specifics on how my $20 would contribute towards the reduction of global poverty. Truth be told, on my meager Peace Corps living allowance and after the recent purchase of a Chipotle pork burrito with guacamole, I'm not sure that I had a full $20 in my wallet at the time.

"Sorry," I said with a guilty conscience. She gave me a dirty glare, her pleasant smile vanished and would not return. I felt the need to set the record straight, to make her understand that I am on her side. I too was fighting the war on global poverty.

"I am in the Peace Corps," I mumbled apologetically.

I wanted to say more. I wanted to say that I was a business volunteer trying my best to help families in Vanuatu earn enough money to pay for their children's education or to buy basic food staples. I too was raising money for a needed cause, a solar energy project, and was struggling to raise the money due to troubled economic times. That although I may not have the money to contribute to your cause, I have donated 15 months of my life thus far with my Peace Corps service. That I left behind loved ones, a comfortable lifestyle and endured flesh-eating parasites in the sake of battling global poverty and improving lives.

"Thanks a lot. Enjoy that," the soliciting girl said as sarcastically as possible.

I kept walking. I had not communicated my point well. This girl had probably been standing in the sun for too long and the constant rejection from foot traffic was getting to her.

I have nothing against fundraising, even the forms of it I find personally annoying, i.e. mass mailing campaigns or solicitors on the street. But to try and make someone feel guilty for not contributing is wrong. I know that friends and family members who cannot give to my solar project have their own reasons for doing so. Perhaps they have just donated to another project or have major expenses coming up. But I would never rub it in someone's face if they are unable to help.

Maybe I should have should have skipped Peace Corps and just given out a handful of brochures instead. Probably would have less parasite problems if so.

The Latest

2009-07-14T15:18:00.004+11:00

Doing well here in DC. I finished taking the 6 week course of medication for filariasis and some swelling returned very recently to my face. So the doctors no longer believe that is the cause of the swelling.

There is still no definite diagnosis. But here are some possibilities:

Gnathostoma- a parasite caused by eating undercooked fish or shellfish. Very rare and normally found in Asia, although cases have been found in Mexico and Africa too. So it is very possible that this parasite could be found in the South Pacific as well. A tropical disease doctor just told me today that this could be the cause. It causes migratory swelling also, often around the eye and face. So we started medication for this parasite. Blood tests to confirm the parasite's presence are only conducted in Thailand, so I will have to wait several weeks to hear back on the results of my blood sample.

Angioedema- a confusing medical condition that produces swelling or an allergic reaction within the body. It can be caused by an underlying infection, allergies, genetic mutations or a hereditary lack of a certain protein in your blood. I met with an allergist last week and we did some blood tests for this condition. I am fairly confident that this is not any sort of allergic reaction, as I have had swelling occur in many diverse environments and while eating many different types of food. The hereditary form of this condition is very rare though, only 1 in 10,000 people have it.

The swelling that has returned to my face has been smaller than before and usually last for only a few hours.

Returning to my island hinges on the following. I must demonstrate that the swelling will not return again anytime soon. I need to go at least 2 weeks without swelling. Also, finding the cause, or coming up with a definitive diagnosis will help. Otherwise, Peace Corps may hesistate to send me back if they think this problem could easily return. I have around 30 days to get medically cleared before Peace Corps would medically terminate my service.

If I am separated from Peace Corps, I can apply to be reassigned to my site once I prove that I am medically fit to return. It will just require much more paperwork if I do not meet the 30 day deadline from today.

Wish me luck, I am hoping to return to Aneityum sooner than later!

DC

2009-07-05T05:41:00.003+11:00

I have been in Washington DC for one week now. The trip in was lengthy. 1.5 hours to Fiji followed by a 4 hour layover. Then, a 13 hour haul into Los Angeles with a 25 hour layover at LAX. Finally, my 5 hour flight across the country to DC had me arrive to my hotel around midnight.

Thankfully, on the long flight to LA- I sat next to a friend who just so happened to be on the same flight. We were aboard what was likely the oldest plane still in the Air Pacific fleet- where leg space was minimal and free drinks were unheard of. The same few movies looped continuously on dim screens made in the early 90's, including the latest Hannah Montana along with a song and dance piece from Bollywood. It was prolonged torture.

My head had some decent sized swelling on the plane. Since that time however, I have had zero swelling and have been feeling very good. Coming down off a high dosage of steroids now too, which is contributing to my feeling better.

Peace Corps is taking very good care of me. My doctors here are very thorough and capable. I have had a cat scan of my chest, MRI of my brain, and numerous blood / urine / stool tests. I have met (or will soon meet) with all types of doctors: an internist, immunologist / allergist, tropical disease specialist and parasite doctor. So far all of my tests have come back normal. Which is good in the sense that we have discovered no medical problems, but bad in the sense that we have not found a cause to the swelling. It is possible still that I have filariasis- those blood tests for this parasite take many weeks to process for some reason.

The only bad medical news so far was that I have a confirmed case of giardia- or parasite in my stomach. Not too uncommon for Vanuatu, I probably acquired it through my drinking water. Eventually, I will take antibiotics to clear this up.

My family flew in to see me this week. Had not seen them for 15 months, so it was nice to spend time with them. I went to high school in the DC area also, so I hope to meet up with some friends in the near future too.

It is a bizarre feeling to have dessert and after-dinner cappachinos at a fancy four star restaurant when just a week ago I was sitting on a coconut mat eating roasted fish with my bare hands. I am optimistic I will be medically cleared within the coming weeks and will be able to return to my site though. Will post updates when I can...

Back to the USA

2009-06-30T10:55:00.002+11:00

Peace Corps is flying me to Washington, DC for a medical check up. I am feeling okay at the moment, but I did have some swelling return when I was on Aneityum, so we want to play it safe and have it re-evaluated.

This does not mean that I am finished with my Peace Corps service. It all depends on what the doctors say in DC. But it is possible that I will be coming back home early now.

It is also possible that I do not have filariasis and that the doctors in Australia were wrong with their diagnosis. Blood tests never confirmed it. Also, my island was mass-treated for the parasite with drugs several years ago and the locals do not appear to have it. So right now, there are several large question marks hanging in the air.

Leaving Aneityum was hard, especially since I did not know if I was making final goodbyes or not. Left a majority of my possessions behind for the locals. Several of the projects I was working on were not finished, so they are in the hands of the other Peace Corps volunteer on the island, should I not return. I had several farewell dinners and kava sessions with families on the island that I will never forget. I am very thankful for my time in Vanuatu even if it is being cut short.

But my family is flying into DC to see me now, which I am very happy about. Unfortunately, our family vacation here in Vanuatu and Australia has been canceled. It will be good to see them nonetheless. Hopefully I can reconnect with some friends in the DC area too.

Thank you for all your prayers and well wishes, I'm sure things will turn out for the best...

Back to Aneityum

2009-06-17T11:06:00.003+11:00

Well there has been no major swelling for a while now, so I will attempt to go back to Aneityum tomorrow. Kind of intimidating to go back to some place so remote when you are having medical issues, but the doctors seem to think my parasite problems are under control. Also, I have been assured that Peace Corps will charter a plane to come get me in case of an emergency. So, I will be optimistic and just hope that things are finally better now.

Received a phone call from the village last night. There are rumors going around that I am dying and returning to the US. I look forward to disproving these rumors.

Will be back in town mid-July for a family vacation! Farewell...

My Front Yard

2009-06-07T08:21:00.004+11:00

I have very high speed internet for once, so thought I would take advantage and post a video on here. Here is my front yard on Aneityum. Enjoy...

Brisbane Birthday

2009-06-05T13:54:00.002+11:00

Tomorrow I plan to go to a cafe, purchase a slice of cake and sing the birthday song to myself. Hopefully the other customers will not notice the lone tear streaming down my face.

Just kidding. Maybe. But as I am much too familiar with Australian reality TV programs now, I have already petted both kangaroos and koalas and the thrill of flushing toilets diminishes with each bowel movement- I think it is high time to return to Vanuatu.

Had my final doctor's appointment yesterday. Had some very minor swelling in my head the night before last- but he thinks the filariasis is going away nonetheless. The medication I am taking (an anti-malarial called Doxycycline) does not destroy the adult parasite in my body. It attacks bacteria inside of the parasite so that it cannot reproduce. My immune system will gradually kill the filariasis parasite by itself over the next 6-8 weeks, during which there may be minor flare-ups.

Anyhow, I am ready to go back to my island. Will have to hang out in Port Vila for a week, but that is a step in the right direction. Most likely I fly out Sunday...

Friendly Australia

2009-06-02T13:38:00.007+11:00

Every person I meet in Brisbane seem to be friendly and helpful. Coming from Vanuatu, I am accustomed to warm, smiling faces. But I am still impressed to see this in a city the size of Brisbane.

I do not see the tired, defeated looks in the eyes of workers scurrying to work. Everyone seems happy and content just to be where they are. Stop anyone to chat or ask directions and they are more than eager to talk. Brisbaners brag about how their city is the most laid back in all of Australia, which I take it is a major feat in this country.

I recently had a conversation with a man pushing a stroller that went something like this:

“Excuse me sir, do you know where the bus stop to go into the city is?”

“Oh sorry mate! Bit of a hike it is. About 2 kilometers down that hill.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Say… want a lift? I can push this bugger back home and come back in my car to give you a lift if you like. No trouble at all.”

I declined. But the kindness was appreciated nonetheless. And that was just one example. I met a girl at a bus stop who I ended up chatting with for over an hour even after we reached our destination. Popped into a tourim information center in a small town north of Brisbane to try and find a way to check out the Glass House Mountains, which are towers of rock that shoot dramatically upward out of a otherwise flat landscape. The locals inside apologized that there were no tours to the mountains available, but they would be happy to give me a lift in a pickup truck as soon as work was over.

Check out the friendly Aussie in the picture below who insisted upon giving me a hug when we met.

$2 Steak

2009-05-31T16:07:00.002+11:00

I just returned from a $2 steak special offered by a nearby restaurant. Since the average meal here seems to cost $20-30, I took advantage of this glorious opportunity. There was a catch of course, you had to order a drink along with your $2 Porterhouse steak. Beer was $2 a pint, where as it is normally $8. Anyhow, I had 3 pints in 30 minutes and my body is not used to such an intake. Needless to say, I enjoyed this special. And the steak was not the best in the world, but I am not a picky man for $2.

There is an Italian food festival down town in Brisbane today. I plan to peruse and sample many a dish as soon as I finish digesting this $2 steak.

My goal is fatten up before I go back to the island and start dining on white rice and corned beef again.

Australian Accommodations

2009-05-28T19:54:00.006+11:00

My introduction to Australia has been less than typical. My plane landed here in Brisbane on Thursday around midnight. Bad weather had delayed our flight, floods devastated this part of the country last week, creating a state of emergency and bringing an end to that terrible drought that was all over the news. I was feeling very tired and out of it from a kava session before boarding the plane. Not the wisest decision I have ever made. A taxi took me straight to the hospital.

The Wesley Hospital in Brisbane is a nice facility. Stayed there 5 nights. They wanted to keep an eye on me because we did not know what was causing the swelling. I felt fine my first 2 days there. So basically, I just sat around in a hospital bed watching TV, reading and eating non-stop. The food was quite nice actually. I could get used to having meals delivered to me in bed every 5 hours, with cake and coffee breaks in between. Nurses checking on me constantly- making my bed and cleaning my bathroom. I feel like it was a sneak peak of what life in a nursing home will be like. I was placed in the Pediatrics ward because the hospital was full. There were kitten and clown decorations in the hallway. An elderly woman next door walked into my room at 3 AM thinking it was her bathroom.

The nurses and doctors were nice, although I felt guilty for not having a swollen face the first two days. I was poked with many needles and given a C/T scan. They issued me a day pass so I could walk around the city for a few hours during the day time, then I would return to the hospital to spend the night. One day I explored some art museums, watched Star Trek at a movie theatre, became drunk from only 3 Australian beers at a pub and then returned to my hospital bed.

On day 3, the swelling returned, but to my left eye. Eventually I could not even open it at all and it spread to my forehead. I was sort of happy as the nurses could see that I was not faking an illness just to see Australia and eat their tasty ice cream sandwiches.

Anyhow, now I am out of the hospital and at a nearby motel. It smells of moth balls and is conveniently located 10 feet away from a train track. The motel employee showed me the double glass sliding doors on the porch, ensuring that the additional door would block out the noise. She lied.

12 more days here by my lonesome. I am happy though to have the chance to explore a bit even under these unusual circumstances...

The Elephant Man

2009-05-27T18:28:00.003+11:00

Good evening mates!

I am doing well in Brisbane, Australia. Hope everyone is not too worried after those last few blogs. I still have some swelling on my face, but I have seen some doctors here and am currently on medication. SO hopefully it should go down soon.

Here is a short piece I wrote for our Peace Corps newsletter about what is going on. (In case you are curious, I refer to myself as the Elephant Man.)

The Elephant Man has endured much throughout the past 8 weeks. I have met with 7 doctors, 3 nurses, 1 faith healer and some custom medicine men, A team of exorcists has blessed my house on Aneityum. I have taken 5 courses of antibiotics and 3 courses of de-worming meds. I received a C/T scan, which requires inserting a large needle into one’s arm and injecting a dye that in turn creates a warm sensation around your bladder as if you may be on the verge of wetting your pants (no joke) while being loaded into a coffin-like metallic tube that makes loud whirring noises about one’s head. I abstained from kava for weeks (I shudder to think that I ever blamed you my sacred nectar) and am currently trying to avoid the temptation of Australian beer. My constant shuffle between site, Port Vila and Brisbane has me longing for Air Vanuatu to issue frequent flyer miles.

After the tennis ball sized swelling appeared on my forehead, I waited 5 long and painful days for the next available flight to Port Vila. In the meantime, the swollen lump spread out to creatively re-sculpt my forehead into new dimensions. Thankfully, Latham and his wife visited me daily. They brought food, a PSP to play soccer games and DVD’s to watch. Their visits cheered me up and forced me to laugh when I otherwise would have been contemplating my mortality and awaiting the sweet kiss of death all by my lonesome. They even kept their “big-head” insults and finger pointing to a minimum. My host mother, a faith healer, also tried to help me at this time. She periodically rubbed a Bible against my forehead, waving one hand wildly as she cast out demons from my body.

I have come to know the ever-helpful Brenda Dalzell much better through this experience and am grateful that she remained pleasant even when my frequent radio updates woke her early in the morning. Together, we have gone through many a possible diagnosis. Simple allergies, sinusitis, hookworm, tear duct infection, cellulitis and angio edima were all possible causes at one time. But now, the tropical disease specialists in Brisbane believe I have filariasis.

Filariasis is the medical name for elephantitis, but it has a rather more tasteful name in Bislama: “Big bol, big titi.” I can assure you that my face is the only place experiencing swelling, my testicles and chest seem to be maintaining their normal proportions. Filariasis is transmitted by mosquitoes that carry tiny parasites which block and attack the lymphatic system. While I cannot state with confidence what the lymphatic system does, I vaguely suspect that it is important.

The good news is that this parasite will respond to medication and I should be feeling better soon. I will remain in Brisbane for two more weeks of observation, which should be ample time to find a koala bear and feed it a leaf.

Matthew The Medical Mystery- Part 2

2009-05-20T09:42:00.005+11:00

The swelling in my face came back!

The pictures above are from last week. The swelling started again 5 days after stopping antibiotics and 2 days after flying back to site.

Was not feeling very good to say the least. Then I had to wait 5 long days to catch the next flight back to the capital city. My host mother on Aneityum is a faith healer- and she prayed and massaged my head on several occasions. Interesting to watch, sometimes a Bible was placed against my forehead and her arms would wave wildly as she exorcised any bad spirits. Older men in the village offered to make custom medicine concoctions using local leaves.

Do not worry. I feel much better now. The swelling gradually went down after I started taking antibiotics again. The doctors in Vila have run blood tests- and my white blood cell count is a little high so they think it might be a strange bacterial infection. Originally, they thought it was a parasite, but my blood tests for that have come back negative. It is even possibly a bizarre allergic reaction to something. We will find out soon.

The swelling is completely gone now and I feel great. Even so, I am being flown to Brisbane, Australia soon to have this checked out at a hospital with better testing facilities.

So that is my update for now. Will try to post a bit more while I am in town and have the opportunity....

Naclantan Productions

2009-05-18T08:52:00.005+11:00

Latham, a fellow Peace Corps volunteer on Aneityum, has created a recording studio called Naclantan Productions for local musicians. He has also been producing music videos, which are then compiled onto DVD's and sold to the public. All profit is split equally between the artists, the recording studio and a fund that goes towards the community.

This has been an incredibly successful and popular project. Naclantan (Nog-glaan-taan) is the local language word for ‘red ground’, which is fitting as Aneityum is comprised of steep red clay hills. The DVD's have sold well locally and also in Port Vila, where many Ni-Vanuatu are curious to hear the unique musical style of Aneityum and to have their first glimpse of the island.

Previously, musicians interested in recording an album or filming a music video were required to travel to Port Vila, which is a huge expense. After reaching Vila, the typical fee to begin recording is $1,000 and does not include much production time. Naclantan Productions has eliminated this expense and it provides a musical outlet to the youth of Aneityum that would otherwise be unavailable.

The debut DVD from Naclantan Productions was released in early January and it features an artist named Nalveio. Nalveio plays the guitar and sings in local Aneityum language, Bislama and French. The DVD features a live concert along with video footage taken from numerous villages around the island. The music videos contain scenes of locals chewing kava, dancing under waterfalls, paddling outrigger canoes and roasting lobster in front of vivid backdrops of the red clay hills, lush pine forests and white sand beaches.

Latham is working on a new music DVD featuring a few local artists along with myself. I have made 6 or 7 hip-hop songs in Bislama, which we are in the process of recording music videos for. Hip-hop is popular here, but as it is always in English, the locals do not understand the words. So when people hear rap in Bislama about local topics, they generally get very excited.

We should finish production on the new DVD late June or early July. Eventually we hope to be able to sell our DVD's internationally by setting up an online store later this year.

Here is the album cover of the last DVD.

Book Report Time

2009-05-17T09:37:00.005+11:00

In my previous life, I always complained that I did not have enough time to read. My hectic schedule rarely allowed me that pleasure. Being stranded on a tropical island has changed that, as I tend to have lots of down time now.

Here are the books I’ve read on the island thus far- along with lightening quick reviews for any interested readers out there:

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Tortilla Flat – John Steinbeck – 10/10 – A new favorite for me. You must read about the noble brotherhood of the drunken paisanos.

Kitchen Confidential – Anthony Bourdain – 7.0/10 – Helped me to relive the glamorous 6 months I spent waiting tables.

A Cook’s Tour – Anthony Bourdain – 7.0/10 – Made me want to travel around the world and eat until I become morbidly obese.

Parting the Waters – Taylor Branch – 9.0/10- Every American should be forced to read this book on the Civil Rights Movement. A lengthy 900 pages, it spares little detail. For example, did you know MLK Jr. jumped out of a second story window twice in his childhood trying to kill himself, once when he thought his grandma died and once when she actually passed away?

The Talisman - Stephen King- 6.0/10- Not scary, but creepy. There is a talking sea gull.

Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid – Bill Bryson- 7.5/10 – Funny, wholesome Mid-Western goodness.

Shadow Divers – Robert Kurson – 6.0/10 – True story of deep sea diving for a sunken nazi U-boat. I think I would have enjoyed this much more when I was 13 years old.

A Short History of Nearly Everything – Bill Bryson – 6.5/10 - Will leave you bracing for asteroid crashes, eathquakes, mega volcanic eruptions, ice ages and other apocalyptic events.

Notes From a Small Island – Bill Bryson- 6.5/10 – Funny read about the UK, brought back fuzzy memories of Northern Ireland for me.

Dreams from My Father – Barrack Obama – 6.0/10 – Dreamy. Fatherly. Yes we can.

Silas Marner – George Elliott- 6.5/10 – I struggled through this in high school, but found that I actually enjoyed it this time around. Perhaps my yearning for the English language is make my standards go down. Or perhaps I was an ignorant young scamp in Mrs. Tate’s AP English class.

Cannery Row / Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck - 9.0/10 – Steinbeck can write.

For Whom the Bell Tolls – Ernest Hemingway – 8.5/10 – This book tolls for thee.

Getting Stoned with Savages – J Troost – 7.0/10 – The only travel book I know of about Vanuatu. Funny, almost like a Bill Bryson. He exaggerates for shock effect but anyone interested in Vanuatu should definitely read it.

Poppa Hemingway – AE Hotchner - 6.0/10 – Fascinating but ultimately depressing look into the later life of Ernest Hemingway by one of his personal friends.

Death in the Afternoon – Ernest Hemingway - 7.5/10 – Not a fictional story, but an explanation of bull-fighting. I am inspired to now go to Spain and see this in person. Hemingway could write about paint drying and make it seem intriguing.

Case for the Creator – Lee Strobel - 4.0/10 – Not very well-written or philisophically sound, but an argument for the existence of God. A few interesting ideas though.

A Man’s Life – Mark Jenkins – 6.0/10 – A recollection of stories by an extreme athlete who goes to extremely exoctic locations to practice extreme sports and do them extremely well.

Panda the Puppy (5/12/9)

2009-05-13T07:27:00.001+11:00

I am attempting puppy ownership once again. His name is Panda. He has the same mother as Tupac, my deceased dog, may he rest in peace. Took Panda away from his mother a little earlier than I had wanted to. But he looked pretty battered: fire had singed his whiskers, he had an eye infection, hundreds and hundreds of fleas and lots of open sores. The local children were playing a little rough with him too. So I took him to my place, gave him a flea bath and introduced him to the pleasures of eating corned beef. He is already looking better. He and Lil Wayne the kitten occasionally battle.

Feeling Good

2009-05-08T13:29:00.003+11:00

I believe I am back to normal now! No more swelling or pain around my face. I finished taking antibiotics almost 2 days ago and have been doing fine since then. Hooray.

I should fly back to site on Aneityum tomorrow.

Will be back in town again soon to work on a newsletter for Peace Corps though. Fare well for now....

Speed Baby

2009-05-07T10:03:00.004+11:00

This video was shot in my front yard with all the kids from next-door. Behold, the 'Speed Baby."

Matthew the Medical Mystery

2009-05-06T08:54:00.003+11:00

For the past month, I have been experiencing swelling around my right eye and forehead. The problem started out of the blue on April 3rd. I had been feeling perfectly healthy when my right eye became very swollen within 10 minutes. It was not painful, just uncomfortable. It was very noticeable- people would stare at my face as I walked around Port Vila as if I was the Elephant Man, so I took to wearing sunglasses at all times.

Our Peace Corps nurse thought it was an allergy at first. I took Benedryl for several days but showed no signs of improvement. Then I was diagnosed with sinusitis and given Amoxicillin. The swelling went down after 24 hours and faded completely after another day. I flew back to Aneityum and finished taking the course of antibiotics for 2 weeks. After taking my last scheduled dose, the swelling abruptly returned within 8 hours.

There happened to be a pair of doctors vacationing on Aneityum at the time, so I sought their advice. They also thought I might be suffering from sinusitis and suggested that I take another antibiotic called Baktrim. The swelling went away after taking this- but only for 5 days, when it reappeared again, speading to my out to my forehead. The picture below shows the swelling around my right eye, going up to my hairline.

Another, stronger, antibiotic called Ceflex was mailed to me via airplane. I took it and the swelling again disappeared. 4 days ago, the swelling reappeared however during the middle of the night. I increased the dosage of my medication and it went away. I was then flown into Port Vila by Peace Corps to go see a doctor on Monday.

The doctor thinks that it is an infection of the tear duct. The swelling in my forehead apparently follows a passageway connected with the tear duct. These particular infections are especially resistant to antibiotics. In extreme cases of chronic sufferers, they undergo surgery to have their tear duct rerouted to somewhere else in the nasal cavity. Let us hope it does not come to this.

I will be in Port Vila until Monday tentatively. I am due to stop taking Ceflex tomorrow- and am hoping that this final dose of medication will rid me of the infection. I feel fine currently, no swelling or pain. I feel like I am playing hooky from school now as I am not showing any symptoms.

Do not worry about me. If there is any major problem, Peace Corps will fly me to Australia for medical treatment.

Tom Never Dies

2009-05-05T11:10:00.000+11:00

I heard a short story about a villager from Uje that I enjoyed and thought I would share. This story took place 20 years ago...

A man named Tom decided to go diving out on the reef with his spear gun. He was spearing fish in order to feed his family. The ocean was calm and the fish were plentiful, so Tom did well.

After spearing each fish, he would thread a small rope attached to his shorts through the gills of the fish. He had collected over five sizeable reef fish, but decided to stay out a bit longer to collect some more. As he continued his hunt, a shark suddenly appeared.

The shark was over two meters in length and it was excited by the smell of the recently speared fish. It circled Tom. He tried to keep the spear gun between himself and the shark as he swam back towards the shallows. But the shark was quick and constantly turning. Finally, it lunged.

The shark thrust its open jaws towards Tom’s flank. In an instant, it was over. The shark had struck at the bundle of fish attached to Tom’s waist, but in the process, it had carried off Tom’s shorts. It had just grazed his side, its sharp teeth mere millimeters from flesh. The shark retreated to deeper waters, leaving Tom to swim back to the shore fish-less but thankful.

Tom reached the sand beach with his spear gun. Inspired, he wrote a message in the sand. “TOM GOES DIVING, BUT TOM NEVER DIES.” He then walked home naked with a story to tell.