Settling In

(written August 19)
The pictures are my new and improved kitchen, my immediate, Piliura family [Back row left to right is Kalvau (my brother), Ruben (cousin), and Naomi (Kalvau’s wife). Center row is Papa, Davis (Kalvau’s son), Greg (my deaf cousin), Momma, and Timothy (my counterpart’s kid that snuck into the picture). The front row is Kalvau’s daughters Neri and Gladys], and the last picture is of my counterpart Charlie and his family [Charlie’s youngest boy is Rexson and is only a year old. Then there’s Timothy who you’ll recognize from the last picture, and the older boy is a cousin named Kaltang. The towel wrapped around his head is very commonly worn like that when people are sick. I guess its supposed to help with the mumps somehow and they use it for everyday colds too. When Jared, Peace Corps Volunteer, got the mumps during training we all told him he should use the towel. He was not amused. The woman in the picture is Charlie’s wife, Sepora. The dog is the previous volunteer’s dog, Pakoa (shark in local language), and he’s an awesome dog when he's not barking in the middle of the night.]
The last couple weeks have been just living out the village life. There was about a week and a half that consisted of community days where the village went out to brush each other’s gardens. Basically, clearing bush to be burned and used for the next crop. I took part in this as we all went to town with our “bush knives” or machetes. Definitely a lot of work but it was pretty fun as well. One time during this week we took a break as there was a big ceremony observing the one-month point of a death in a neighboring village. They even killed a couple sea turtles for the occasion. Something I wouldn’t have done but it is custom for certain very special ceremonies and I think they kill about two a year. The killed sea turtles were on the menu and I really couldn’t decline as I have eaten any other cooked animal they brought to me before. So yes, I ate green sea turtle, and yes I was filled with guilt for eating one of the very things I am working to protect out here. My rationale being that the turtles were already dead, someone’s going to eat them, and I didn’t want to offend my hosts. Have to say it tasted good (like gamey chicken but better) and I don’t think I’ll ever eat it again.
Well, the day after our turtle feast, which included many other types of meat and side dishes, we went to work brushing gardens again. The sound in the field we were clearing was that of a bunch of ducks quacking or a horde of vocalizing California barking spiders (Arachnis flatulensa). That’s right, just about everyone, including myself, were ripping ass constantly expressing our content with yesterday’s meal. I don’t think I’ve ever heard and seen anything like it before. To top it off everyone was farting at the same pitch. Very impressive! Talk about coming together as a community… I really do get a good kick out of farts and I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of it. For instance one memory just came to mind of an incident during a college class in a lecture hall seating about 200 people. During a lull in the lecture someone squeezed out a fart that echoed throughout the room. Well this distinguished group of higher education hopefuls turned into ten-year-olds in a split second as just about everyone was laughing loudly. Farting is funny. Go with it.
One of the gardens we brushed was my own future garden and I’m pretty excited about getting that going. Should have space for a few herbs, tomatoes, onions, green beans, chili peppers (plenty), and carrots. This week I also spun my local fishing rod, a wine bottle with fishing line wrapped around the barrel and a hook at the end. In order to cast this technological masterpiece one swings the end piece (about a meter) of the line attached the hook around like a cowboy with his lasso and casts the line. The bottle is held, upside down, in the other hand to let the line out. I’ve been working at my casting this week and made some marked improvement. As Kalo put it, “Seth you’ve achieved what a Ni-Van does at 6 years of age, Congratulations.” Followed by a necessary “Fuck You” from me. We both had a good laugh at that one.
To get bait you either grab small sand crabs or hermit crabs or you use a similar fishing device with a beer bottle and a large treble hook to snag sardines as they come close to shore in large schools. These guys catch some pretty damn big fish on these hand lines. Obed, from the shore, caught an 80-pound trevally on a hand line. Don’t think I’ll achieve that feat but I’m looking forward to getting into some out here. Have to send some pictures. Yesterday, Alec dragged from the bush my canoe that he’s working for me. Its about 6 feet long and will have an outrigger attached to it when all is said and done. Figure I should be able to burn a lot of downtime here fishing.
I also found out last week that we receive all four Vila radio stations clear as a bell. I’m going into town tomorrow to try to hunt down a cheap radio. They run the BBC World News at 7 each day. Right about the time I’m drinking my cup of coffee in the morning. Perfect! Speaking of coffee, we built the tables in my kitchen this week and cooking has become much more enjoyable. They are a perfect height, a problem I have even in the States. We joked how if a short volunteer replaces me they’ll have to build a step stool like the one Pat Seyjack of Wheel of Fortune uses to satisfy his Napoleon complex while greeting contestants. Haven’t noticed? Take a look the next time you watch the Wheel. I’ve already been experimenting with some of the locally available produce and melding it with Western spices. Made a damn good pumpkin soup a week ago and some tasty banana cinnamon pancakes the other day. A previous volunteer made a great cookbook geared towards using what is locally available, and the cookbooks were printed and distributed to each trainee during training. The author went to Poway High, graduated the same year as me, and I actually met him once through a cross-country friend of mine. Hats off to you Taylor for all the hard work!
Yesterday I met with the conservation committee for the village I stay in, Piliura, to try and hash out a plan to resolve a dispute my village has with the Nguna-Pele MPA. Turns out both bodies want income generated off of a tourist sponsor-a-turtle and tag him program. The MPA wants my village to sign the newly-drafted MPA agreement, but my village opposed signing a few months ago as the agreement had a clause sending all income from turtle tagging to the MPA. The tourist program is only run by Piliura, and they feel they have all rights to the tourists and their money. The MPA on the other hand, is broke, looking for income generation, and knows that the MPA name is used for the Piliura turtle tagging certificate and that MPA equipment is used for the tagging. Both sides have been very stubborn and engaged in very circular arguments during the two meetings held previous to my arrival in Pele. Well, after a lot of discussion with my village and the village conservation council, I got them to hash out a realistic proposal containing the amount of money going to the MPA and Piliura etc., the reasons why Piliura wants the given percentage of money, and what Pilura plans to do with the money earned.
Both sides have pretty valid points and I’m hoping they can come to an agreement during the MPA meeting on the 29th. Its definitely in my best interest for this to happen as I am an MPA volunteer, but my host village, because of the MPA base location, is Piliura. Its like Conflict Mediation 101 over here, and I’ve had to very careful to not take a side here while still pushing for something to be decided on.
During the conservation committee meeting we also talked of future initiatives the village wants to go ahead with including making a physical boundary of the conservation area (using buoys), a mariculture workshop, and the committee’s plan to generate income by selling kava. The latter being a good plan as Piliura does not make kava and there seems to be a good demand for it. I also told them of the incentive for people to drink when they knew the money was going to a good cause. “Get drunk and save the Earth!” Shit, you could even market it to overnight tourists once the two bungalows are built. In fact, the volunteers on Nguna have already used this to generate some small income for the MPA. I’m guessing that’s where the Piliura guys got the idea from.
I’m headed to Vila tomorrow a little earlier than the month interval period I gave myself to go because there’s a Cubs-Cards game (at Wrigley) on satellite. Two weeks ago, when I was in town, there was a scheduling change so no baseball was to be watched. In fact, one time they switched out the game for PBR bull riding. The Ni-Van waiter laughed his ass off at the site of some idiot riding a huge bull, but we weren’t to amused that baseball got bumped. So I’m hoping I get to watch a game this time as it may be the last time I’ll get to see the Cubbies this season.
There’s a business side to the trip too…I’m printing out the Bislama directions I made up for OTL and Beach Volleyball as I hope to get cranking on those soon. They also want me to grab the official sand soccer rules as they want to start a league for that too. I’m also going to pass on a disc I made of Vanuatu birdcalls pulled off a great internet site the last time I was in town (http://www.postiveearth.com if anyone’s interested, it may have a .vu at the end. I forget).

(written August 20)

Got to watch the Cubs game today but it was rained out after the third inning. Figures huh? I got to watch a little of the Little League World Series during the rain delay. Some kid from Curasau put on a 15K performance blowing the ball by the Saudi team. The Saudi team had a few really nice defensive plays, though. During the game I noticed a Ni-Van watching the game too and explained to him what the Series was all about. He turns out to be a guy from the Ministry of Youth and Sports and asked if Vanuatu had a team. "Not yet," I explained and he seemed really enthused about starting a youth baseball league and wants me and Javier, the other baseball-crazy volunteer, to drop by the office to talk about it. So I'll have to call Javier and get the wheels turning on that one. Still need to check with MLB to see if there are any grant or donation opportunities similar to what is done in the Caribbean to kick start youth baseball.

Bummed about the Cubs game but at least I got to see a few innings and networked with a provincial employee about youth baseball. Back to work. Plenty to get done today.

Celebrations

(written August 2, 2007)

The first two pictures are from a fantastic sunset in Utanlangi. The next one is next is making bunya (pig roasted on red hot lava rocks for about a day) during the Mere wedding ceremony. There were about 4 of these lava rock beds each about 5ft wide. The last picture is Dom with Abel Dick.

So I just got back form Nguna the other day and had a great week-long visit to the island. The first couple days I was up in Mere for a wedding celebration. A lot of it was pretty normal wedding stuff but there were some highlights: While Dom and I were chilling waiting for the next event to happen the day before the ceremony we met an elderly man who struck up a conversation with us. He gave us his life history in a long, drawn out story with almost every other year of his life stated and what happened during that year. Exhausting, but I couldn’t get over what this guy was sporting. He is the first old Ni-Van I’ve seen actually wearing old person clothes. Most elderly here just wear what everyone else does, old shirts and shorts with flip-flops or island dresses on the mamas. But, this guy was wearing baby blue, polyester bell-bottoms, a collared shirt, and white Keds. He looked to me like an old Cuban guy. Naturally, I had to get a picture and realized what a great find it was when, after the picture was taken, he told us his name: Abel Dick. How about that one! That ranks right up there with Dick Butkiss. After he had left Dom and I both revealed our similar strategies of not looking at one another in order to abstain from laughing out loud after hearing the name. Yes, I know we have juvenile senses of humor and guess what? I don’t care what you think.

During the ceremony everyone’s attention was thwarted from the event when one guy was being hauled away with a big gash in his head. We later found out that he had fallen on a bottle but he was alright as we saw him at Independence Day with a rag on his head. Some of the youth and young men (18&up) like to get rip shit wasted during wedding celebrations of home brew (fermented fruit and yeast). In fact, Dominique’s counter part, Tatu, a fairly professional, normal villager, caused a minor scene at the cake cutting ceremony. We, the Peace Corps guys (me, Dom, Rob & Gleny), were invited guests at the cake cutting and thus were seated in the dining hall with about 40 other family members. All of a sudden Tatu stumbles into the room and nearly knocks down an entire table of food. About a half hour later, the eating is done and some people have started dancing to the string band music. Well, Tatu comes back in and starts dancing doing this funny ass shaking thing and grabs us all one by one to dance with him. The whole thing was very funny and Tatu managed to break a glass, probably with his ass, before the dancing is over.

After the wedding the four of us went down to Rob & Gleny’s house via a mountain goat-like trail where we all were sliding all over the place. This is part of the celebration as the bride was from Mere and now she was being brought down to the groom’s village, her new home. There was to be a lafet (party) and more food. We entered the party dancing to string band music and the mamas in front of us were splashing baby powder on newly arrived people’s necks. This powdering is very common here during ceremonies. When our turn came we got doused with powder as usual, but one mama inadvertently shot me directly in the eye with powder. All I saw was a big shot of white in one eye a split second before it happened. I left for a few minutes to flush out my eye and rejoined the festivities. The party went on until the sun came up, but we fell off around 10 as only a handful of really drunk Ni-Van yangfala were left. Rob had been looking for Jerry, his host-family brother to score some homebrew, but we couldn’t find him. When we were about to go to sleep Rob said that he had found him and I should take a look. Jerry was passed out not even a foot outside the barbed wire fence that surrounds Rob’s house. We both talked of his fortune of not passing out actually on the fence. I woke up at around 5 in the morning to hear the music still bumping. By the way Ni-Vans take first prize for use of the repeat button. You’ll hear the same song in one night at least ten times at any event, and usually it’s one of three songs that are popular nationwide for the month. Anyway, I wake up and decide I’m hungry and then decide to walk down to the lafet to see if any food is left. There’s about four guys passed out around the community hall including one guy that was fading and a mentally ill man (harmless) roaming about and mumbling shit. One guy was passed out right in front of the speakers and the sound that was coming out of the speakers was so loud I couldn’t hear the sane guy talking to me a foot away. I don’t know how a person can sleep like that! Dude, at least crawl a few feet away. Turns out they’ve got some laplap and pig. I chow down, story for a few minutes, and head back to the house to sleep.

The next morning we hitch a truck ride to the farthest village on Nguna, Untanlangi, for the Independence Day celebration. If we were to hike it would take at least a few hours up and down some nice size hills. We arrive at the village only to find the partially nuts guy that was partying until 6 in the morning already there. That guy set out at about 8, probably still drunk, and marched his ass without any water or anything up and down some gnarly hills and was chilling, smiling, and fully awake when we arrived. Man is a champion! This guy, Homeboy, as we affectionately referred to him as, was a source of our and many other’s entertainment for the 3-day celebration. I know what you’re thinking how mean …yatty yattah, but people here do care well for people that are mentally ill or disabled as they are fed and looked after well by the community. They just happen to be around the village rather than in some home or insane ward like we know it in the States. There’s also a kid that’s about 20 years old in my village that likes to talk to trees and the sea. His main verbal communications are a sound like a motorcycle starting up (da da da doe) followed by a few winding cat sounds (rearrww rearww). But back to Homeboy… this guy seems fairly normal until he opens his mouth and spouts some nonsensical off-topic thing at you. I think he’s got a cocktail of bi-polar disorder and schizophrenia. Although, most of the time he seems to be on the positive end of the spectrum, wearing a big grin, and enjoying life.

So Homeboy is wearing the same socks that he was wearing two days ago when we first arrived. And he’s wearing flip-flops, making the white socks become very brown over time. Although he doesn’t change his socks, everyday he comes up with a new outfit somehow, always layered and amusing selections. When he greets you he gives you a thumbs up, smiles, clicks his tongue, and shifts his head from side to side like a greasy used car salesman. Just watching his actions from a far was interesting for us. He repeatedly re-organized benches, danced his ass off for the entire celebration, and many times left people with which he had just interacted with a “What the hell?!” bewildered look.

On the day of the actual celebration the Peace Corps crew were again invited guests and as such were requested to sit on stage with chiefs and other important people. They would call your name, hang a salu salu (like a Hawaiian lei), and you go on stage. Well, when a forester, who was not present was called, Homeboy decided someone had called his name, got a salu salu, and joined us on stage sitting right next to me. I guess the people decided to just go with it. What the hell right? We sat down and I admired his attire: new outfit same socks, now 5 days worn, dark brown, and ripped in a few places. Man, just take the socks off! Its at least 80 degrees outside. When it came time to hand out a few books that had the words for the Vanuatu National Anthem, Homeboy decided to help pass some out. When he went to sit down he missed his mark and sat right on my lap. I politely moved him over, he apologized, and it took every bit of energy I had not to laugh.

Later in the day they were giving away the second hand clothes that weren’t sold in the first few days of the festival. Homeboy decided to indulge and came out with an outfit with a Gilligan hat, women’s nightgown, over his already-layered clothes. Then he got on stage, grabbed what looked like a purse, and danced for about 5 minutes.

Other than some interesting things viewed by Homeboy, the food was great and cheap too. About $1.50 a plate for such things like steak, omelets (had to special order), and chicken wings; all served with rice and other side dishes. There was also a really impressive sunset one day, and I got a chance to snap a few pictures. The kava there was also of good quality and we indulged in the spirit of celebration, sometimes with an ice cold Tusker, a novel thing in village life where there is no refrigeration.

There weren’t any flashy things like fireworks but the celebration lasted three days and a lot of activities were going on. I won a match of petangue and lost a close teams game after. We didn’t get into the volleyball tourney because we were an hour late for registration. We watched the final match though, and I think the Pele teams played at a little higher level. By the way, when I got back to Pele I found out that the Piliura team won the championship for the Pele Island celebration. Always good to hear. Some of the guys seem pretty receptive to the beach doubles tournament idea, so I’ll have to work on that one.

After the celebration the four of us (volunteers) headed back to Mere to Plan out the workshop. We’re going to hold seven 3-day workshops during September and October throughout the Nguna-Pele community (~16 villages). I’m pretty excited about it as it also really benefits Dom and me because we’ll have Rob and Gleny (seasoned workshop veterans) working on it with us, and we’ll get to meet a lot of people in the community. Cranking away on material for the workshop is part of the reason I’m going to Vila this weekend. Also need some more supplies, and catch a couple baseball games. I’ll try to email a bit if I get time on Sunday.

Volleyball

(written Sunday, July 22)

The pictures are: a view of Piliura from the top of the hill, Morris tossing a patangue ball in the tourney and the Eagles in the volleyball semi-finals.

On Thursday some people strung up the volleyball net again and some people came out that are usually too busy to play. The level of play intensified quite a bit and we even had one guy ref-ing with a whistle. We, a mix of women and men, were diving, spiking, blocking, etc., and I had a blast. With this new level of play they now were digging out of the net, which greatly satisfied me. Many Ni-Vans are short but there are definitely some tall people and if you’re tall here you know how to play volleyball.

After we played I told them my idea of getting a tournament going and they said there was already to be a 6 on 6 competition in the neighboring village on Saturday and we should form a few teams and join. We agreed we’d practice the next day and form the teams. Well the next day it rained all day so no practice and team forming. That night I spread the word that we would meet after breakfast in the morning and get the teams together. I went to the next village to drink a couple shells of kava and proceeded to get pretty stoned on just two shells. Not my intention, as I was only trying to catch a small buzz but the kava was strong.

The next morning I awoke with a hangover but was dedicated to play and met with a few people and went to Launamoa to go register our teams, now two: one men’s and one women’s. The competition was part of a big fundraiser for the string band and included petangue competition (like bocce), various carnival-type games, volleyball, and food and kava for sale. Fundraisers are very common here. There’s usually at least one a week for things like school fees, aid posts, string band, and really any community-based cause. Most are just some Mama’s cooking some food and selling it, but there are some bigger ones too. This fundraiser was well organized and even had music and announcements coming from a sound system.

Kalo and I signed up the teams (about $3 entry fee/team) and we waited for the tournament to begin. The men’s team name was the Piliura Bears after a joke I told a few days before about a bear and a hunter. I got in a round of petangue with Laonamoa’s chief and another guy before the people started playing for keeps, and I actually won. After about a couple hours of watching patangue and chilling our men’s team had three players and we had one woman for the women’s team. Not looking so good. But, as luck would have it we got enough people from our village to show up and we, the men’s team, started the match.

The court was grass with lines, complete with attack line, made with sand. The first two games were to be rally scored to 25 and the third game, if necessary would be played side-out style to 15. The rules were laid out officially by the whistle-equipped ref, a flip-flop toss for serve (no coin needed), and we were on our way. It was a good match and we took it to the third game but lost by a couple points. When we lost our guys immediately blamed it on the smaller court size used in Launamoa. I told them that was a not good excuse and explained that we played well. Nothing to be ashamed of.

The M.C. announced over the loudspeaker the result of our match and that there was still another opening for another team to join to make the full six teams for the tourney, or… a team could play again if they lost. This seemed to be an indirect hint as we were the only team as of yet that had played and lost. So… new life! We entered the tourney again and our first match was with the “Piliura Girls”, who now also miraculously had enough players. They gave us a run for our money. We had the advantage of height and power, but they had better passing and common sense including not always trying to kill the ball. Sounds like differences between men’s and women’s volleyball or basketball in the States huh? We ended up winning by a few points in the third game and went on. I definitely made a point of telling the mamas what a good match they had made it as it was true and they were really good.

The next match we played we won in two games, although they were close and advanced to the championship game. We were to play “The Eagles”(a name I think they chose because they love playing “Hotel California” out here), and I got a chance to look at their team in the semis. This team, consisting of athletic guys from Launamoa, looked pretty tough. In fact, they are the team in the picture. Its them in the semis with one of their players hitting into a block.

As we were to begin the match there was a new seriousness present as some of the players were pep talking about smart play. We were close to a tie in the first game when Watson, one of our best players went down. He hurt his arm falling on one of the plays and was out for the game. They grabbed some 12yr old boy from the sidelines to fill his spot and we all were a little worried about our chances. We lost the first game, but someone picked up a different guy, Sam, as a sub for the rest of the match. Sam filled the shoes of Watson quite well, almost like Watson never left. We took the second game in a nail-biter. All around good play: people were getting good kills, well-timed dinks, excellent blocks, and digs coming out of nowhere. In the last game we got on top early, capitalizing on their mistakes and won the tourney. We shook hands with the other team and thanked them for a good match and walked away with smiles and a new air of pride.

Our prize was a lemon pound cake and it was good. The following morning, one of the villagers, who didn’t attend the event, asked me how we did. When I told him we won he first called me a kiaman (liar) and then was pretty excited for us. They have another tournament in about a week for Independence (July 30 here) and they want me to play with them, but I’ll be in Nguna for their celebration. But, the guy who asked how we did is about as tall as me and a good player so I told him to play for me. Nguna, too, has a tourney for Independence so I might join a team if they need a player. Dom out on Nguna made All-State California for volleyball during high school. Maybe try to convince her to play too.

Overall, it was the best day I’ve had in Vanuatu yet and I’ve had some good ones so far. I played four good matches of volleyball, hung out all day in a cool BBQ-like atmosphere, and our village walked away victorious. Only thing I could of used was a beer or two at the end. Instead I took down a shell, not the same but it’ll work.

Other stuff going on…I won’t get out to Vila to catch the Cubs game as I had hoped. I’m going to help Dom with some stuff her village is doing, setting-up their conservation area. Mere, her village, is part of the Nguna-Pele MPA so seeing as there’s not much work for me here as of yet, and a member village needs help I’m going. Part of he trip over there too is celebrating Independence with Dom, Rob, and Gleny on the 30^th. After, the three of them and I are going to work on planning a village-by-village workshop that will go to all the 16 villages on Nguna and Pele. We’ll be tring to look at conservation needs of villages and how those fit with goals of the MPA, and also helping these communities identify their already-existent human resources.

Other than that I’ve just been meeting people and players in the Pele community and talking about all types of things, conservation and everything else under the sun. I was asked to be a guest speaker for Childen’s Day this Tuesday, a Pele community event. The speech is to be on children's rights, so I whipped a speech out in Bislama the other day. Have to remember to write next week how it went. I focused on rights to health, education, safety, choice, and clean environment. Although right to swing around a machete should be in there too. There are no qualms about little kids playing with knives here. Small kids use machetes or “bush knives” as they’re called here and are pretty handy with them. That’s all for now…

Out at Site

The pictures are: my kitchen at this point (I’ve been using the the window sill as a table to prepare food), my office, the view out the window from the office, and my room now (check out the sawdust coverings and cool bag on the wall my mama had made for me)

By the way, you can view all the pictures in full size by clicking on the image.

(written July 16^th)

Well I’m just going to start out by saying I’m glad I brought my laptop here. Just so happened I lucked out and scored a site where I have access to solar power. I arrived at site about a week ago and was able to get all my supplies and myself there in one trip. On the way from Vila I stopped and visited my host family and had a good afternoon with them and my training village. My mama asked me why I hadn’t bought a stove and I explained that they were out. She produced an old stove of hers from the kitchen and we were both surprised it worked. Happiness points went way up with that one. Let the cooking begin!

Dom was along for the ride as well as she too was headed to site on Nguna. She was to crash in my village for a couple of days as there was a wedding in her village which pretty much means everyone’s enjoying the festivities too much to give her and her gear a ride to the top of the hill. So she chilled while I set up some stuff in my new home. First thing that was brought to my attention of the new home is that is infested with termites, common here with houses covered in bamboo, but this house particularly puts out a nice layer of sawdust from termites. I’ve had to cover some things with mats and such to keep the sawdust off. Eventually, I hope to wrap the walls with cheap cloth or calico as they call it here.

Its pretty fun to kind of look at your house and decide what improvements you want to make. The community and I are going to build some shelves and tables in the next few weeks for the kitchen. I can eat with my family whenever or cook whenever. It’s a very cool situation and I have promised my family I will cook for them on occasion as I have already done once so far.

The first night we arrived my host family at site brought Dom and me a pumpkin and it just so happened that there was a pumpkin curry recipe in one of the things the Peace Corps gave us. So we batched it up, using coconut milk we cut, scraped, and squeezed from well, coconuts, and it was delicious. We gave some to my host family, they loved it, and my mama insisted that I make it for some VSOs (a worldwide volunteer agency that I think is centered in the UK) that were going to come in a day or two.

On Wednesday we were all waiting around as Dom was waiting to go to site and the village and I were waiting for another batch of tourists to come visit and also waiting for the VSOs. About the time Dom was set to leave one of the mamas came screaming from the beach that a boat had capsized in the bay. And so the panic began. Apparently, the tourist boat loaded with about 12 people had flipped over in the middle of the bay. One of the boat drivers scrambled and I ran to get a couple life jackets from the house as I did not know if the boat had them or not. I threw the jackets on board and the first boat took off with a couple villagers. Dom was a firefighter at one point back in the States so she jumped in the next boat, which wouldn’t start for some time. I watched the scene from shore with the village with my binoculars. Both boats finally got there and everyone ended up being alright although some cell phones and cameras were destroyed. Apparently one of the plugs on the boat was fouled up and the boat took on too much water. The driver, recognizing the situation, got everyone off the boat and into life jackets, before the thing capsized.

Then the tourists, wet and in surprisingly good spirits, arrived on the island and tried to make the best of the situation. Meanwhile, people in the village were trying to communicate with the tourism operators in Vila about what to do next. A true mess and I couldn’t stop thinking about what this accident might mean for future tourism here.

A couple of hours later they managed to tow the upside down boat to shore and the hull was intact. The expensive 40hp engine probably is going to need some heavy work if it is to be revived at all after its salt water dunking. It was hard to believe a boat went down in that bay; its one of the calmest bays I’ve ever seen.

So Dom got out to site, supposedly the tourism shall commence once again in the next few days, and business as usual back in the village. The next day I awoke and soon after my counterpart told me that a man’s mother from the neighboring village had died last night. We were to go pay respect in a few hours, my first attendance of a funeral in Vanuatu. So our village collected and walked down the beach to the next village where we aggregated once again before entering the funeral place. We walked in, heads hung, and as soon as we got close everyone started weeping as if on cue. It was amazing. Just a minute before people were storying and even joking, but as soon as the collection of people already at the funeral were nearly reached by us there was a mass exodus of tears and emotion. From what I understand Ni-Vans don’t mourn like most in the rest of the world. There is a set period to mourn and then you supposedly go at life as normal. In this village it is five days where no work takes place and a day for surrounding villages. I’ve heard that some places in Vanuatu can be up to a month. Any prior meetings or obligations are canceled until after the mourning period.

But, back to the funeral…There is no casket or bag. The dead is simply covered with calico (I’m not sure how they bury people here, have to ask about that one) and people sit down and cry and wail continuously. This lasts I don’t know how long during the day because I got the cue that some of us were to leave after about a half hour, they were weeping when we got there, and when we left. It seems so physically and emotionally draining, and truly remarkable.

The VSOs arrived the next day and we spent the next few days hanging out some. They had to come to experience some village life, and it was a little unfortunate for them that most of the village was gone most of the days due to obligations with the village containing the recently deceased. There was a very nice couple from the UK, John and Hannah, as well as Frank, a doctor from Uganda. My host papa and mama were also hosting John and Hannah so we ate meals together and I helped translate, at times some Bislama, as they had only been in country for a couple of weeks. I did cook the curry for them and the family as mama had asked and it was a hit.

It was really nice to have some more people to story with as things are a little slow in the beginning of Peace Corps work. Turns out John is a cricket purist in many the ways I think of baseball, and we talked along parallel lines as to the degradation of our sports in our new, impatient society. I told John there are baseball games aired about three times a week in Vila and he seemed pretty excited to watch some baseball. Probably catch a baseball game in a bar the next time I’m in Vila, his and Hannah’s site for the next two years. By the way I’m going to try to plan my re-stock trips in Vila around good games that will be aired. The Phils and Cubs are set to play at Wrigley on the 31st, hope I can get to Vila for it. I guess another benefit of the close proximity to Vila is some interchange with people that hail from all over the world. Frank even looked at a nasty reef cut I have on my foot and gave some good suggestions.

Today I am just waiting for a guy from a neighboring village who said he needed help in writing an official letter. Its getting late in the day now and I think he’s going to be a no show. I olsem nomo (That’s how it goes). I’ll probably be meeting with some chiefs and MPA staff in the next few days just to do some more introduction formalities and talk a little about the state of things around here. Other than that I’ve been reading up on marine biology stuff and future workshops I hope to make here as well as storying a lot with the villagers. Before Dom left we were talking about how weird it is that we have this “Now what?” feeling. We’ve been anxious to get out to site, but now we’re here and its not like starting a new job for the first day where its kind of hectic. Just the opposite. The Peace Corps encourages you to take it really slow, for good reason, the first few months, and just figure out what’s going on in the community, how it functions, and who are the key players. So I’m just chilling and trying to figure out what I can…