A day in Vanuatu

I wrote a blog entry many months ago that was written to the new volunteers, it was about packing and our impressions of Vanuatu and surviving pre-service training and such things. I thought it was a pretty good entry. While that's not the goal of this blog entry, I feel like this is another good entry for a future volunteer to stumble upon. It really sums up the "Peace Corps experience" in many ways. All in one day.

We have been facilitating a workshop in a village on top the last two days. The workshop was going great in the morning, lots of good facilitated discussions about water, hygiene and sanitation. I was feeling really good about the workshop. There was a little lethargy after lunch, but the group recovered quick enough. Then at one point in the afternoon, a number of young men just left the workshop for no apparent reason. I went to check what was going on and observed that they had left the workshop to go watch pacific pop music videos. Somehow pacific pop was taking precedence over clean drinking water and good toilets. I don't even like pacific pop, I think it's pretty bad, and I like bad American pop music. I walked over to where the young men were watching the video, thinking my presence would make them feel awkward and they would then return to the workshop, but it didn't work, they just looked at me and nodded, assuming I wanted to watch the videos too. I was infuriated, left, went back to the workshop, announced to everybody in the workshop that there was a group of young men that were watching videos instead of participating in the workshop and explained how I had tried to make them come back and how my plan had failed miserably. Someone in the workshop fixed my problem for me, a few of the young men returned to the workshop and others were decent enough to go hide and watch the videos some other place. The workshop ended on a good note and everyone seemed excited for the next day of the workshop next week.

After the workshop we had to walk an hour through a beautiful jungle to get back to our house and then hurry off to an evening ceremony to say goodbye to Alex's counterpart, who just told us yesterday that she is leaving this week. Four days notice that we are going to be without a counterpart.

There's a giant nabanga tree that has fallen onto the road, completely blocking the road. The tree was getting old and folks living nearby were worried it would fall onto someone's house, so they started burning the tree out, on the side of the house, they knew it was going to fall onto the road and they knew it would be a problem to have a 10-15 foot diameter trunk on the only road. They didn't really have a good option. The only truck in our district is on this side of the nabanga tree, meaning the truck can't leave this district until they get the massive tree removed. We have to climb over this giant nabanga tree. Alex has to climb over the tree in a skirt. It's kind of neat, and kind of annoying. Alex mentioned the skirt part was pretty annoying. The reality that there wasn't a good option for such a big, yet simple, problem is..well..telling.

We get back to the house, change into dry clothes and get ready to head to the goodbye ceremony/dinner for Alex's counterpart. Alex's host father, who we haven't seen in months comes over to tell us to hurry up. After he leaves I tell Alex he can shove it, the first time he bothers to come over in months and all he can think to say is hurry up.

We get to the community meeting place, lots of smiles, hand-shaking, and playing with little children. We feel very welcomed and it feels good to be so welcomed and so comfortable in our district. Alex goes and sits with her favorite women and I go about greeting all the 'big' [important] men at the gathering. We both know what to do and say.

The ceremony starts in the next hour or so. Everyone gives speeches. Everything is said in the local language and Alex and I catch little to nothing of what is being said. We don't mind too much, we are used to it, I find simple things to daydream about. During Alex's counterpart's speech, she includes enough Bislama so that Alex and I can follow her whole speech - our hero. She thanks us, but instead of thanking us for the ways we have empowered communities to look out for themselves - they ways we have built capacity, she instead focuses on the free water tanks that we helped the communities get - one of the lesser successes, and a success that at the end of the day did more to discourage community action than anything else. This infuriates me, that the stupid tanks take precedence over the real, sustainable accomplishments we have made fostering non-dependence. It's a strong feeling, I could go on a long rant about it right now, but that would distract from the point of this story.

Later in her speech, Alex's counterpart is passionately talking about the values and worth of independence, about not relying on donors and instead looking out for themselves - the same message Alex and I have been preaching for months and a message I thought was lost when she started praising the free tanks. A very proud moment for Alex and I indeed.

Later I am asked to give a speech and I have to invite Alex to join me for the goodbye speech to her counterpart, because Ni-vans are patriarchal. We give a good speech, tearing up as we say goodbye and wish Alex's counterpart all the best.

We've been "working" for over 12 hours now, including two climbs over the nabanga tree. I am expected to stay and drink kava, Alex is free to go. I do my best to politely decline drinking kava and we say our goodbyes, which take a while. My host father wants some time to brag about how soon his village will be building toilets. As we walk away, I am sure I have offended several people by not staying to drink kava. When we arrive home we open the basket of food they gave us on the way out. They have given us lots and lots of chicken, a special treat and a real sacrifice for those that didn't get the chicken because we got it. As we are eating the chicken our cat brings in a dead mouse and promptly abandons it on the living room, choosing to eat the chicken bones instead.

This is how your days go -
Lots of highs and lots of low.