I am not exactly sure how it came to be, but Alex and I were given a StoveTec GreenFire 1-door wood burning stove. They call it a biomass cook stove. It's has these thick walls that keep the heat from dissipating. Along with directing all the heat directly to the cooking pot, the extra heat helps the firewood burn hotter and thus cleaner.
The thing is absolutely amazing.
We're using well less than a quarter of the wood we were using with open fires; and because the fire is always burning hot, we rarely get smokey fires, (only when we push our luck - thinking the fire is so hot that it can handle wet wood).
The manufacturer's write, "Efficient cook stoves increase heat transfer to the the pot, saving fuel. The stove top and the pot skirt force the hot gases closer to the bottom and sides of the pot. More heat enters the pot so less fuel is used for cooking. The insulative combustion chamber both increases the temperature and aids the mixing of gases, air and fire in the combustion zone. The GreenFire stove increases both heat transfer and combustion efficiency, resulting in cleaner and more efficient cooking".
We were given the stoves to take them to the island and show them off. I wasn't keen at first (dealing with the logistics of getting anything from Port Vila to our house is enough to make one not keen on pretty much most things), but there is such a dramatic difference from an open fire, we are both completely sold on the thing.
We'll get one for our summer kitchen in the states.
Alex informs me the rotary club and a RPCV named Charlie played major roles in the stove's appearance.
www.stovetec.net
Friday, June 10, 2011
lazy saturday
it's a quiet, lazy saturday afternoon. It occurs to me that I haven't written a blog entry for a while, so time to check-in and let the blog know how we are doing. Well, we are doing fine. We finished another PHAST workshop yesterday. There was a closing ceremony during which I was given a really nice chief's walking stick thing. It's really nice. And I had two shells of kava and was totally drunk, I had use the walking stick to help keep my balance on the walk home. Crossing the Nabanga tree sucked. One typically doesn't have trouble walking after two shells. I dunno
We received mail yesterday. Some friends went north and carried our mail back with them (and flour!!!). Thank you to Michelle for the thoughtful package, we now have a Dulce de leche cake (that alex made) and a Uruguayan flag (sticker) hanging on our wall. We also received copies of both the Vanuatu peace corps staff newsletter and the vanuatu peace corps volunteer newsletter. They are fun to read and kind of catch up on things.
We had pizza and cake for lunch.
We are going to be pretty busy for number of weeks. Another PHAST workshop, a youth conference, head to south pentecost to watch the land diving and easter celebrations.
We received mail yesterday. Some friends went north and carried our mail back with them (and flour!!!). Thank you to Michelle for the thoughtful package, we now have a Dulce de leche cake (that alex made) and a Uruguayan flag (sticker) hanging on our wall. We also received copies of both the Vanuatu peace corps staff newsletter and the vanuatu peace corps volunteer newsletter. They are fun to read and kind of catch up on things.
We had pizza and cake for lunch.
We are going to be pretty busy for number of weeks. Another PHAST workshop, a youth conference, head to south pentecost to watch the land diving and easter celebrations.
Urban migrations
We are facilitating the third day of a four day hygiene and sanitation workshop tomorrow. This morning we prepared with our co-facilitator. Her name is Regina, she is from the village hosting the workshop. She's smart, she attended University of the South Pacific for a couple years.
There's lots of competent people originally from our district. The administrative director for health services for our entire province is from our district (there are 6 provinces in Vanuatu). The Provincial pharmacist is from our district too. There's a medical doctor, his name is Dr. Solwin, I've met him once. He is originally from our village. He moved to Papua New Guinea, did development work for a number of years, progressed in his career and, if I understand correctly, was a professor at a medical school for quite some time before returning to Vanuatu (just recently) to start a medical school on Santo Island. There's Alex's counterpart, who just left the district this morning, a trained nurse, as well as one other trained nurse, a brother of one of my friends, who's off working somewhere else.
Then there's Simeon, he's the director of Youth Challenge Vanuatu (or some similar name), a pretty substantial development agency in Vanuatu. And his younger brother, Simon, who just finished University but has all types of potential and will be doing great things in Vanuatu in here shortly.
And there's several people like Regina, who has the skills and is sort of waiting for a good opportunity to get off the island. Not for getting off the island's sake, but for job opportunities.
I was talking about this with my friend this morning, how we have all these nurses from our village but not one with us now. He commented how there were only two teachers to ever come from our village, yet our school is fully staffed.
There's lots of competent people originally from our district. The administrative director for health services for our entire province is from our district (there are 6 provinces in Vanuatu). The Provincial pharmacist is from our district too. There's a medical doctor, his name is Dr. Solwin, I've met him once. He is originally from our village. He moved to Papua New Guinea, did development work for a number of years, progressed in his career and, if I understand correctly, was a professor at a medical school for quite some time before returning to Vanuatu (just recently) to start a medical school on Santo Island. There's Alex's counterpart, who just left the district this morning, a trained nurse, as well as one other trained nurse, a brother of one of my friends, who's off working somewhere else.
Then there's Simeon, he's the director of Youth Challenge Vanuatu (or some similar name), a pretty substantial development agency in Vanuatu. And his younger brother, Simon, who just finished University but has all types of potential and will be doing great things in Vanuatu in here shortly.
And there's several people like Regina, who has the skills and is sort of waiting for a good opportunity to get off the island. Not for getting off the island's sake, but for job opportunities.
I was talking about this with my friend this morning, how we have all these nurses from our village but not one with us now. He commented how there were only two teachers to ever come from our village, yet our school is fully staffed.
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 5
We just returned from a day spent at our friends house. they live out (and up) in the bush, maybe 45 minutes walk away. We left their place around sunset and ended up walking the last half of the walk with aid from the display light on our cell phone.
So, here's what I was thinking about on the walk home...We live in the north of pentecost and thus speak the language of north pentecost - Raga. Our district is the southern-most district in North Pentecost. The district to our south speak their own language ( a less common one) and the district south of them speaks the language of central pentecost. There are at least four different languages on pentecost island, four major ones anyways, and several less common ones too. The language groups are geographically divided. But why would people living in such close proximity on a small island develop several different language groups?
It's a little crazy - this is a tiny island, and it's not like there are mountain ranges or impassable deep gorges or wild animals that inhibited folks from exploring their little island, I am sure all you anthropology majors reading this blog know the correct answer to that question, but I have my own theory.
It also seems to me that the areas near the language divides are typically 'more bush', meaning they seem less developed. I don't actually know if that's true, but it seems to be, I don't know how I would go about confirming if that true or not, but I'm not really that worried about it.
So here's my theory...I imagine the reason for multiple languages on such a small island - only a few kilometers wide and less than 80 kilometers long - the reason is the innate dark, sinister nature of Ni-Vanuatu people. It's true, I suspect anyone that knows this culture well would not hesitate to use the words 'dark' or 'sinister' to describe it. We have a book of traditional stories from Vanuatu, story after story after story is dark, most involve gruesome deaths and/or evil heros.
So, in my theory, this innate nature lends itself to distrust strangers. Thus, Ni-vans of before would not stray too far from home out of fear and distrust of the unknown. The multitude of languages developed because no one was interacting with anyone too far from home, It's a pretty simple theory, really, just an innate dark, sinister nature...and cannibalism. But don't those two sort of go together too? And it seems pretty plausible, I'll ask the next linguist I run into.
So, in my theory, the area where the language changes is sort of a no man's land, a safe space to divide language groups, a place that folks from neither language group would dare to tread, unless perhaps they were looking for trouble (or meat). And, in my theory, perhaps it hasn't been that long ago, since the areas near language borders still seem less developed than other areas.
So I was thinking about this theory as I walked home this evening, through the jungle with a cell phone for a flashlight, near a language border. I am not sure how long it's been, but in my imagination it hadn't been too long since -the reasons that kept the language development separate- were alive and well.
And if it really hasn't been that long, then that implies this place is changing rapidly. And how can one keep pace? And what implications would that have for 'development' work?
The innate dark, sinister nature theory could also be applied to explain the horridly low success rates of community projects in Vanuatu.
So, here's what I was thinking about on the walk home...We live in the north of pentecost and thus speak the language of north pentecost - Raga. Our district is the southern-most district in North Pentecost. The district to our south speak their own language ( a less common one) and the district south of them speaks the language of central pentecost. There are at least four different languages on pentecost island, four major ones anyways, and several less common ones too. The language groups are geographically divided. But why would people living in such close proximity on a small island develop several different language groups?
It's a little crazy - this is a tiny island, and it's not like there are mountain ranges or impassable deep gorges or wild animals that inhibited folks from exploring their little island, I am sure all you anthropology majors reading this blog know the correct answer to that question, but I have my own theory.
It also seems to me that the areas near the language divides are typically 'more bush', meaning they seem less developed. I don't actually know if that's true, but it seems to be, I don't know how I would go about confirming if that true or not, but I'm not really that worried about it.
So here's my theory...I imagine the reason for multiple languages on such a small island - only a few kilometers wide and less than 80 kilometers long - the reason is the innate dark, sinister nature of Ni-Vanuatu people. It's true, I suspect anyone that knows this culture well would not hesitate to use the words 'dark' or 'sinister' to describe it. We have a book of traditional stories from Vanuatu, story after story after story is dark, most involve gruesome deaths and/or evil heros.
So, in my theory, this innate nature lends itself to distrust strangers. Thus, Ni-vans of before would not stray too far from home out of fear and distrust of the unknown. The multitude of languages developed because no one was interacting with anyone too far from home, It's a pretty simple theory, really, just an innate dark, sinister nature...and cannibalism. But don't those two sort of go together too? And it seems pretty plausible, I'll ask the next linguist I run into.
So, in my theory, the area where the language changes is sort of a no man's land, a safe space to divide language groups, a place that folks from neither language group would dare to tread, unless perhaps they were looking for trouble (or meat). And, in my theory, perhaps it hasn't been that long ago, since the areas near language borders still seem less developed than other areas.
So I was thinking about this theory as I walked home this evening, through the jungle with a cell phone for a flashlight, near a language border. I am not sure how long it's been, but in my imagination it hadn't been too long since -the reasons that kept the language development separate- were alive and well.
And if it really hasn't been that long, then that implies this place is changing rapidly. And how can one keep pace? And what implications would that have for 'development' work?
The innate dark, sinister nature theory could also be applied to explain the horridly low success rates of community projects in Vanuatu.
The road less traveled
There is no bookstore in Vanuatu. One of the grocery stores keeps a stock of about 20-30 books and the American restaurant has a bookshelf with a 'take a book, leave a book' system (which, by the way, seems to be a system that degrades to a bookshelf of second-rate books). Peace Corps Vanuatu maintains a small library, mostly just books that volunteers have brought into the country and then left behind when they returned home (also degrading). You can typically find a book worth reading, but sometimes you have to look for a while, kind of like shopping at a bad used book store, only much smaller. Alex picked up this book called 'The Road Less Travelled' while we were in Vila. It's not a book or author that she had read previously, but she had heard of it before and I think someone in our village had asked her to keep an eye out for it.
The book is fine but that's not the point of this blog. Here's a quote from the book that Alex read aloud to me:
"Pure communism, for instance, expresses ... namely that the purpose and function of the individual is to serve the relationship, the group, the collective, the society. Only the destiny of the state is considered, the destiny of the individual is believed to be of no consequence. Pure capitalism, on the other hand, espouses the destiny of the individual even when it is at the expense of the relationship, the group, the collective, the society. Widows and orphans may starve, but this should not prevent the individual entrepreneur from enjoying all the fruits of his or her individual initiative."
I have written about communism and capitalism several times since arriving to the island. It's something we end up thinking about more than you would expect and talking about with our Ni-Vanuatu friends regularly.
Our district (and much of the developing world, I suspect) is somewhere between the two. Communism roots from before are still strong, and capitalistic initiatives are common. It's a strange place to be, and a hard place to be, and in many ways a sad place to be - trying to find a way to have the best of both worlds without the negatives of either world - And not being able to find that way.
The book is fine but that's not the point of this blog. Here's a quote from the book that Alex read aloud to me:
"Pure communism, for instance, expresses ... namely that the purpose and function of the individual is to serve the relationship, the group, the collective, the society. Only the destiny of the state is considered, the destiny of the individual is believed to be of no consequence. Pure capitalism, on the other hand, espouses the destiny of the individual even when it is at the expense of the relationship, the group, the collective, the society. Widows and orphans may starve, but this should not prevent the individual entrepreneur from enjoying all the fruits of his or her individual initiative."
I have written about communism and capitalism several times since arriving to the island. It's something we end up thinking about more than you would expect and talking about with our Ni-Vanuatu friends regularly.
Our district (and much of the developing world, I suspect) is somewhere between the two. Communism roots from before are still strong, and capitalistic initiatives are common. It's a strange place to be, and a hard place to be, and in many ways a sad place to be - trying to find a way to have the best of both worlds without the negatives of either world - And not being able to find that way.
back on the island
it's nearing two weeks since we returned to site and this is the first blog entry I have written. This seems to be a pattern, there's typically a delay between returning to site and the first blog entry I write after returning to site.
We are fine at site, I cut my finger pretty deeply this morning while opening a drinking coconut. It's not too serious, just serious enough to get me out of doing dishes for a few days. Alex is well, she had some type a flu for a few days but she's better now. Well enough that she started back into her exercise/yoga routine this morning.
We made soap this morning, just the two of us, for our own personal use. Alex added mint and lemongrass and a concoction of anti-mosquito essential oils. We have to let the soap 'cure' for about a month and then we'll see if we become walking mosquito repellents.
Vila was good, we did a 2-hour presentation to the new group about our PHAST project and they expressed interest in the workshop tools we created. Enough interest that they organized a work party and put together several toolkits to be carried back to their island to utilize. It was a big compliment to Alex and I's work, we felt pretty good about it.
Our cat has life. The garden is good. Our island friends haven't rejected us. We started lots of seedlings a few days ago, hoping for a big harvest just before it's time for us to leave Vanuatu.
I feel like I could just babble on for a while, but instead I will just end this blog now.
We are fine at site, I cut my finger pretty deeply this morning while opening a drinking coconut. It's not too serious, just serious enough to get me out of doing dishes for a few days. Alex is well, she had some type a flu for a few days but she's better now. Well enough that she started back into her exercise/yoga routine this morning.
We made soap this morning, just the two of us, for our own personal use. Alex added mint and lemongrass and a concoction of anti-mosquito essential oils. We have to let the soap 'cure' for about a month and then we'll see if we become walking mosquito repellents.
Vila was good, we did a 2-hour presentation to the new group about our PHAST project and they expressed interest in the workshop tools we created. Enough interest that they organized a work party and put together several toolkits to be carried back to their island to utilize. It was a big compliment to Alex and I's work, we felt pretty good about it.
Our cat has life. The garden is good. Our island friends haven't rejected us. We started lots of seedlings a few days ago, hoping for a big harvest just before it's time for us to leave Vanuatu.
I feel like I could just babble on for a while, but instead I will just end this blog now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)