As if we didn’t have enough to worry about with things like sit-sit wota (diarrhea), malaria, fungal infections, head lice, scabies, or intestinal worms, we also had lots and lots of classroom instruction and exercises dealing with all the aspects of safety and security in Vanuatu.
When thinking of safety and security during my Peace Corps deployment, I focused primarily on potential bad things like assault, theft or rape. And yes, those are all concerns. In fact, there were hours spent in various role plays having to do with recognizing and avoiding potential situations that could lead to crimes against a Peace Corps volunteer – particularly a female volunteer. We learned all the statistics along with the tactics to use to avoid putting ourselves in harm’s way, and what to do if something actually should occur.
Well…one night during my last week in the village of Ekipe, I was sound asleep in my bungalow. There was a window on the same wall as the head of my bed and just to the right. I always kept the “trap-door” window propped open because the window was screened. At any rate, I was pretty sound asleep when I was awakened at about 11:15 by a sound at my window. In a haze of sleep I thought I heard somebody mumbling my name – and before I was fully awake I muttered something like “Yeah…who is it?” I heard my name again and within a split second I was wide awake and looked up at the window to see a face staring in at me and then a bright flashlight was shown in my eyes. I leapt out of bed and shouted “Hey…get away” – and then at the top of my lungs I screamed “GET THE HELL AWAY!!!” I immediately sent a text message to the cultural trainer in our village asking him to text me if he was awake. Within seconds I got a return message asking “what’s wrong”. I texted back that a man was just looking in my window. Again within seconds, he texted me back explaining that I had just experienced an element of Peace Corps training aimed at examining how I would react if I was “creeped”. I didn’t know whether to be relieved…or “pissed off”. Within minutes my Mama and Papa were at the door of my bungalow asking if I was alright and then explaining that the Peace Corps had given them a heads up that this was going to happen.
For those of you who have never heard of “creeping”, it is apparently a fairly common thing to happen here in Vanuatu – and it can happen to either a man or a woman. Sometimes, it only means that a person is interested in getting to know you – or it could also mean that they want to come in for a toss in the “hay”. It is always a reportable incident both to your village and to the Peace Corps. I’m happy to report that I’ve never been “creeped” – but after that incident, I’m pretty sure I can handle it!! Besides, all the windows in my apartment have bars on the outside, so no creepers are comin’ in after me!
Depending upon where you are based in Vanuatu, there may be any number of safety concerns. Vanuatu lies squarely on top of the Pacific Ring of Fire, and is on the edge of the Pacific tectonic plate – which is being forced up and over the Indo-Australian plate. This action causes frequent earthquakes – not to mention volcanic eruptions! There have been 4 earthquakes just since I arrived in September – none stronger than 6.2 on the Richter scale, but some in the past have actually caused tsunamis. Peace Corps training focused on earthquakes and how to react – and the importance of knowing the high ground or consolidation point designated for each of our villages in the event of a major earthquake that could trigger a tsunami. Vanuatu also has 9 active volcanoes – 7 on land and 2 under the ocean. We spent a good deal of time understanding what to watch for as well as how to react in the event of an earthquake, volcano eruption, tsunami, or cyclone.
Since Vanuatu is an island nation, we were also issued a life preserver that we are required to take with us anytime we are traveling inter-island by boat. One of our hands-on training sessions focused on water safety. The actual training was supposed to teach us how to effectively don our life preservers, jump into the water and maneuver to safety – or provide aid to others in the water. However, on the particular day and time that our training was taking place, the tide was pretty far out. So, instead of doing the typical training, our trainer modified it to be a water relay race of sorts as a competition between Team A and Team B. The idea was to race through the water to the trainer – grab a life preserver – put it over the head of your teammate who had run ahead of you – and then hold on to the life preserver and the teammate to get them safely back to shore. Well, as I was waiting my turn to race through the water, I looked at the water and thought “This really isn’t safe. By the time it’s my turn, the water is going to be so churned up that I won’t be able to see where the coral is – and somebody could get hurt.” Well, guess what?? Along with 6 or 8 other people, I ended up face first in the water with coral cuts on both knees, down my shins – and even on my big toe!! Suffice it to say, this was not my idea of water “safety” training. To add insult to injury, we then had to walk about a mile back to the village where we finally were able to scrub the coral out of our legs and apply some first aid. At any rate, we all survived with no major infections – I have a few more battle scars on my knees, but who’s counting??
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
VILLAGE LIFE
Many of you have asked what the day-to-day life has been like in Vanuatu. Well, I can tell you that it is quite different than anything I have ever experienced – some of it I love…while some of it “not so much”! The first hurdle I had to get over was the unconscious expectation that basic, everyday things would probably be similar. Well, in some ways they were – kids tease, fight with each other, and sass their parents just like they do anywhere else. Much to my surprise, everybody seems to have a cell phone! Digicell Vanuatu has done a great job constructing cell phone towers throughout most of Vanuatu’s islands – so now people with no electricity, form of transportation, or even modern health care have a digital phone! Families seem to have the same challenges anywhere – not enough money to get what they would like to get for their children, they must scrape together money for school uniforms and fees, gardens don’t always produce what we expect – and so on. But in so many ways, island life in this part of the world takes some getting used to.
Some of the things I had to learn to ignore were kids with continually running noses – with mother’s flicking off the snot with their fingers and then continuing to grate the vegetable for lap-lap like nothing happened…or kids who butter the bread for everybody at breakfast while licking the knife between every spread…or people who put a chicken wing into their mouths and eat everything (crunching bones and all)! But perhaps the single most challenging thing of all was the lack of privacy in village life. People here simply do not comprehend that anybody would choose to be alone – or ever want to live alone. So, unless your door is closed, there is always somebody around wanting to talk – or kids wanting to play – or even kids stroking your hair and lifting up sections of your hair checking for head llice! Yes – it happens all the time!!!
On the other hand, I must explain that when this family invited me into their home and gave me a “kastom” name, it was not simply fulfilling their obligation as a Peace Corps host family. Oh no – it honest-to-God meant that I am now…and forever will be…a member of their family. No questions asked – I am now a part of their family forever. They would give me the last bit of food that they had on the table – or the last piece of clothing available – or the last cent of money in their pocket if I needed it. The bungalow they built for me will forever be my home with them – and will be the home of anybody in my family from America who may come to visit. I’m pretty sure that the clothes I brought with me equate to more than the entire family has together. Yet, they gave me two island dresses upon my arrival – and towards the end of my stay with them Mama presented me with her favorite dress – one from New Caledonia. This was a prized possession – the only one like it in the village. Even though it is a simple cotton dress, I will forever treasure it.
The children in my village have no toys – yet I’ve never heard them say they were bored. They run, play, laugh – and always find some way to have fun. Baby Jerry plays with pieces of coral...digs in the dirt with a spoon, and entertains himself for hours with an empty peanut butter jar and lid. Shockingly, nobody seems to worry about the fact that he also plays with a butcher knife too!
There are no cars in the village – no television sets – no 401Ks – yet, they are joyous, fulfilled people. They honestly have everything they need to raise their families – eat organic food – and look to the future as a daily gift from God. It is just amazing!
Does that mean that I loved every minute of village life? Noooo – but I did gain a certain respect for their culture and values. I remember thinking that I didn’t believe my feet and toenails would ever be clean again, but after some soaking in a bucket with laundry detergent and a brush they were good enough!
Some of the things I had to learn to ignore were kids with continually running noses – with mother’s flicking off the snot with their fingers and then continuing to grate the vegetable for lap-lap like nothing happened…or kids who butter the bread for everybody at breakfast while licking the knife between every spread…or people who put a chicken wing into their mouths and eat everything (crunching bones and all)! But perhaps the single most challenging thing of all was the lack of privacy in village life. People here simply do not comprehend that anybody would choose to be alone – or ever want to live alone. So, unless your door is closed, there is always somebody around wanting to talk – or kids wanting to play – or even kids stroking your hair and lifting up sections of your hair checking for head llice! Yes – it happens all the time!!!
On the other hand, I must explain that when this family invited me into their home and gave me a “kastom” name, it was not simply fulfilling their obligation as a Peace Corps host family. Oh no – it honest-to-God meant that I am now…and forever will be…a member of their family. No questions asked – I am now a part of their family forever. They would give me the last bit of food that they had on the table – or the last piece of clothing available – or the last cent of money in their pocket if I needed it. The bungalow they built for me will forever be my home with them – and will be the home of anybody in my family from America who may come to visit. I’m pretty sure that the clothes I brought with me equate to more than the entire family has together. Yet, they gave me two island dresses upon my arrival – and towards the end of my stay with them Mama presented me with her favorite dress – one from New Caledonia. This was a prized possession – the only one like it in the village. Even though it is a simple cotton dress, I will forever treasure it.
The children in my village have no toys – yet I’ve never heard them say they were bored. They run, play, laugh – and always find some way to have fun. Baby Jerry plays with pieces of coral...digs in the dirt with a spoon, and entertains himself for hours with an empty peanut butter jar and lid. Shockingly, nobody seems to worry about the fact that he also plays with a butcher knife too!
There are no cars in the village – no television sets – no 401Ks – yet, they are joyous, fulfilled people. They honestly have everything they need to raise their families – eat organic food – and look to the future as a daily gift from God. It is just amazing!
Does that mean that I loved every minute of village life? Noooo – but I did gain a certain respect for their culture and values. I remember thinking that I didn’t believe my feet and toenails would ever be clean again, but after some soaking in a bucket with laundry detergent and a brush they were good enough!
QUIET SUNDAYS
Each weekend, we trainees had activities designed to help us get to know our families better and to more fully integrate with the village, its culture and way of life. The first weekend we were assigned the task of getting to know the family, attending church, and talking to them about their ancestry and then actually drawing a family tree – all in Bislama mind you!! So, even though I’ve been working on family trees for 25+ years, this was definitely going to be a challenge!
Ekipe is a fairly small village comprised of 75 households with ~350 people. My immediate family consisted of Mama Marie and Papa Paul – Mama Marie is younger than my oldest son, and Papa Paul is just 49 – so believe me by village standards, I am wan oldfala wuman (one old woman)!! Living at home with Mama and Papa is Papa’s father, Abu (Vanuatu designation for grandfather), 3 daughters: Anita (12), Harriet (7), and Sandrine (5); one baby son: Jerry (15 months), and two sons living nearby with an Uncle: Sethstone (18), and Robert (21). By the time I was finished preparing the family tree, it was clear that everybody in the village is related in some way. With the exception of just a few, all people in Ekipe were originally from the island of Tongoriki. So, most people in Ekipe speak Bislama, English, French, and a language indigenous to Tongoriki. In fact, throughout Vanuatu there are more than 120 local languages. So, at first glance the people may look and seem primitive and untrained, the fact that they are fluent in 4 languages and live an entirely self-sufficient life is truly a humbling experience. I suddenly felt pretty inadequate.
My first Sunday, the family was up by 5 am to start the morning fire. Nearly every breakfast was quite simple – either bread spread with peanut butter and margarine or breakfast crackers along with sweetened orange-leaf tea (hot water steeped with orange leaves from a nearby tree). That tea is absolutely delicious. But on Sunday morning, the family was busy preparing their big mid-day meal early in the morning so that it could be eaten immediately following church. Church began anywhere from 9-9:30 am. My Papa was the Pastor of the CMC church – an old, dilapidated open-air building just at the end of the path leading to our house. Services opened with a hearty welcome from Papa followed by beautiful singing featuring his baritone voice and complimented by Mama’s perfect harmony. He also played the guitar and everybody in the church would join in singing along. The congregation was pretty small – it varied between 8-15 people. Ekipe had several churches – Seventh Day Adventist, Presbyterian, and Church of the Covenant. On my first Sunday at church, Papa welcomed me and another trainee by calling us to the front of the church and draping a wide swath of kaliko (calico) around us.
After church, we came home and sat under the mango tree to cool off a bit and just chatted – as much as I could in pretty basic Bislama and lots of English scattered through. Dinner was served and then everybody took a nap for the hot part of the afternoon. The rest of Sunday is pretty much family time – people would stroll around to visit – kids would play endless games like “patty-cake” or other rhyming games – and families would generally just hang out. Dinner was usually cold leftovers from lunch along with some bread.
After dinner on my first Sunday there, Mama looked at me and said “You go swim now?”. Since it was early evening, I really didn’t want to head to the ocean, so I replied “No, I don’t think so” – to which she followed up with…”You swim later??” – to which I replied, “Oh maybe tomorrow or another day.” There was a fairly awkward period of silence when finally the kids understood what was happening. They started laughing and said “Leiso…you swim there” and pointed at the shower. Their word for shower … or bath…is “swim”!! So, I started laughing and said “Yes, bae mi go swim naoia! (Yes, I’ll go swim now)!” I think they were pretty relieved to know that I wasn’t going to be the dirtiest, smelliest white woman they had ever met!
Ekipe is a fairly small village comprised of 75 households with ~350 people. My immediate family consisted of Mama Marie and Papa Paul – Mama Marie is younger than my oldest son, and Papa Paul is just 49 – so believe me by village standards, I am wan oldfala wuman (one old woman)!! Living at home with Mama and Papa is Papa’s father, Abu (Vanuatu designation for grandfather), 3 daughters: Anita (12), Harriet (7), and Sandrine (5); one baby son: Jerry (15 months), and two sons living nearby with an Uncle: Sethstone (18), and Robert (21). By the time I was finished preparing the family tree, it was clear that everybody in the village is related in some way. With the exception of just a few, all people in Ekipe were originally from the island of Tongoriki. So, most people in Ekipe speak Bislama, English, French, and a language indigenous to Tongoriki. In fact, throughout Vanuatu there are more than 120 local languages. So, at first glance the people may look and seem primitive and untrained, the fact that they are fluent in 4 languages and live an entirely self-sufficient life is truly a humbling experience. I suddenly felt pretty inadequate.
My first Sunday, the family was up by 5 am to start the morning fire. Nearly every breakfast was quite simple – either bread spread with peanut butter and margarine or breakfast crackers along with sweetened orange-leaf tea (hot water steeped with orange leaves from a nearby tree). That tea is absolutely delicious. But on Sunday morning, the family was busy preparing their big mid-day meal early in the morning so that it could be eaten immediately following church. Church began anywhere from 9-9:30 am. My Papa was the Pastor of the CMC church – an old, dilapidated open-air building just at the end of the path leading to our house. Services opened with a hearty welcome from Papa followed by beautiful singing featuring his baritone voice and complimented by Mama’s perfect harmony. He also played the guitar and everybody in the church would join in singing along. The congregation was pretty small – it varied between 8-15 people. Ekipe had several churches – Seventh Day Adventist, Presbyterian, and Church of the Covenant. On my first Sunday at church, Papa welcomed me and another trainee by calling us to the front of the church and draping a wide swath of kaliko (calico) around us.
After church, we came home and sat under the mango tree to cool off a bit and just chatted – as much as I could in pretty basic Bislama and lots of English scattered through. Dinner was served and then everybody took a nap for the hot part of the afternoon. The rest of Sunday is pretty much family time – people would stroll around to visit – kids would play endless games like “patty-cake” or other rhyming games – and families would generally just hang out. Dinner was usually cold leftovers from lunch along with some bread.
After dinner on my first Sunday there, Mama looked at me and said “You go swim now?”. Since it was early evening, I really didn’t want to head to the ocean, so I replied “No, I don’t think so” – to which she followed up with…”You swim later??” – to which I replied, “Oh maybe tomorrow or another day.” There was a fairly awkward period of silence when finally the kids understood what was happening. They started laughing and said “Leiso…you swim there” and pointed at the shower. Their word for shower … or bath…is “swim”!! So, I started laughing and said “Yes, bae mi go swim naoia! (Yes, I’ll go swim now)!” I think they were pretty relieved to know that I wasn’t going to be the dirtiest, smelliest white woman they had ever met!
OFF TO OUR VILLAGES...THE BEGINNING!
Friday morning, September 17th, couldn’t come soon enough! We are known as Group 23 – since we’re the 23rd set of trainees to hit the shores of Vanuatu – and since Group 23 is so large, we are divided up into several villages about an hour’s drive north of Port Vila for the remainder of our pre-service training (or PST in Peace Corps lingo). I’m headed for the lovely village of Ekipe – while others will be headed for Epau, Takara A, Takara B, or Paunangisu. Although we’ll be attending classes as within each of our respective villages, each Friday all of Group 23 will get together for a “This Was the Week That Was” and any debriefing info that PC has for us. So, we gave our “buds” a big hug and headed off to the north!
Upon our arrival at Ekipe, we got out of the van, pulled on our backpacks and then noticed a group of women in island dresses forming an entry way with palm leaves for all of us to walk through for the big welcome into the community center…or nakamael. When we entered the nakamael, all our host families were waiting – and chairs were lined up at the front of the room each labeled with a trainee’s name. Once we were all assembled, one of the 7 village chiefs welcomed us – and the festivities began! The air was so full of excitement – and every person in the village had the broadest, most infectious smile that I’ve ever seen. One darling toddler was dancing around the room and smiling at us with big sparkling eyes – while some of the other children were clearly unsure about all the white people at the front of the room and were peering out from behind their Papa’s back or peeking through their Mama’s arm as she held them tightly.
After 5 days of Bislama training, we had learned how to introduce ourselves along with a few other key phrases and felt pretty confident that we were ready for the village life. Well, that confidence drained out in about 2 minutes. The host “Papa” opened with a prayer and then began talking so fast that I thought he was actually an auctioneer who had shown up at the wrong place on the wrong day! As it turned out, the host Papa was Papa blong mi (my Papa) – and I suddenly realized that I couldn’t understand one damned thing he was saying. But like every other trainee, I kept the pasted-on smile and just nodded and laughed when everybody else did. Then each volunteer was called out individually – presented with a kastom (local ) name and was introduced to his or her host family – who then pulled an island shirt or dress over the volunteer’s head. We were already hot and overheated, but by the time the opening ceremonies were finished and we all had on 2 sets of clothes, I think we were bordering on heat stroke. But the fun had just begun – it was time to eat! Ahh – I saw some luscious-looking papaya (popo) and fresh, juicy grapefruit (pamplemousse) and some beautiful bananas (banana) – but what I didn’t realize is that the main dishes were steamed rice (which was fine) – topped with island cabbage (aelan kabis) soup – followed by several different kinds of yes, you guessed it – THE DREADED LAP-LAP!!
Finally, it was time to head to our respective homes for the next 8 weeks. Each of us waved goodbye to our colleagues, and headed off in various directions down a jungle path. Papa blong mi, Mama, and all the kids trudged along – with some help from the village boys to hoist my 2 large duffle bags, small suitcase, and Peace Corps-issued things: regulation 2” single-sized foam mattress, mosquito net, pillow, sheets, bucket (for whatever we need it for), medical kits, books, and assorted stuff. When we arrived at my host family’s home, I couldn’t believe my eyes. They had built me a small wooden bungalow with thatched (made of pandanu leaves) roof, the inside walls were covered with purple-print fabric (kaliko), and the floor was coral with locally-woven mats as a floor covering. My little bungalow consisted of 2 rooms – a small entry room with table and stool for studying, and a bedroom with a raised wooden platform bed just waiting for the mattress and mosquito net, and a small bookshelf. One of the kids had made a lovely bouquet of flowers and placed it on a little shelf just above my study table – fresh ginger flowers and banana leaves beautifully arranged in an empty peanut butter jar. Just seeing the smile on the kids’ faces as they showed me the flowers made it the most beautiful flower arrangement I’ve ever received.
Mama blong mi also had purchased a second island dress for me – which was ready and hanging inside my bungalow. Just a little aside here – an island dress is kind of like a stylized muumuu dress. It is made of bright, tropical-print kaliko, always has a full, gathered skirt – quite shapeless actually, with little points (called wings) of kaliko sewn around the waistband. These were introduced by the early missionaries as a modest covering for the local island women. They’re big, boxy, and ensure that no “curves” or other feminine features can be detected! One of the things that was stressed in our pre-packing lists and instructions was that pants or shorts were inappropriate for women in villages – you may get away with it in Port Vila, but skirts or dresses should be fairly loose and go to at least mid-calf -- or island dresses were the accepted dress code for the villages.
So, I took some time to unpack and get my little bungalow all situated and then rejoined the family outside for a tour of their “homestead”. They were so excited to show me their brand new outdoor dining area – a rough-hewn picnic table and bench built inside an open-aired thatched roof enclosure with a coral floor. There were some screens on two sides of the seating area – but I noticed two very large, gaping holes in the screen. One of the kids quickly told me “Wan bigfala rot hemi kakae scrin” (a big rat “ate” the screen)! (I was suddenly grateful that my bed was raised off the ground by a few feet.) I was also shown their “cook house” – a rectangular area with walls on one large side and one small side with a few shelves to store fresh food. All cooking was done within this roughly-constructed “house” over an open fire in the dirt. They also showed me the toilet and shower – yes, I did say shower! I was one of the very lucky few PC trainees in our village to have an actual shower. OK, it was cold river water piped from the hills – but nonetheless, it was a shower! We also had a toilet next to the shower – called a water-sealed toilet. It looked like a regular “john” – but there was a faucet inside the outhouse – once you were “finished” you filled the bucket with water and poured it into the bowl to flush the toilet. Believe me, it was absolutely wonderful to have a “flushable” toilet – some people did not have that luxury! There was even a small basin – with soap and a towel - balanced inside a tire mounted on a tree trunk outside the toilet as a hand-washing station. Papa Paul was also the village health care worker, so he was a believer in hand-washing. The running water in the village was only for washing clothes, showering, or toilet flushing – drinking water was obtained from a nearby well. Although a couple of homes in the village had a small solar panel, nearly everybody else used kerosene lanterns for light. No electricity is available yet in these northern villages.
By the time supper was finished (yep, you guessed it – more lap-lap left over from lunch), I had run through every single thing I knew or could understand in Bislama and was beginning to look and act like a mime – so by the time it was dark around 7 pm, I turned in for my first night’s sleep in Ekipe. Just before hopping into my little rustic bed, I stepped back outside my bungalow with water bottle in hand to brush my teeth. I thought I knew what “dark” was – but boy was I wrong. With no light to “pollute” the sky, the stars were simply phenomenal – but I actually had to go back into my bungalow for my small PC-issued solar lantern to be able to see where to walk to brush my teeth and spit! I lingered outside for a few moments just to drink in the darkness, the sounds of the palm trees blowing, and the sound of the ocean (about a 5-minute walk away). I have to say that I felt pretty small and insignificant – and very far from home.
So, I settled in for a good night’s rest. I awoke at about 5:30 am to hear the sounds of the fire being started and the kids outside playing. As extroverted as I may seem, the opposite is often quite true. I suddenly got this feeling in the pit of my stomach – and the first thought I had was “God, don’t make me go outside this bungalow today!” So, I just lay quietly within my mosquito-netted not-so-quite Westin Heavenly Bed trying to decide what to do next. Within 30 minutes or so, I noticed some loud whispers outside my bungalow…”Leiso…Leiso”. I thought the kids were playing some game…but then a tap came on my door with a much more insistent “LEISOOOO”! OMG – that’s now my name – I’m no longer Carla…I’m now LEISO!! I replied with a fairly anemic-sounding…”Yesss??” – which was followed by “Leiso…yumi kaekae naoia” (Leiso…we eat now). With that I got out of bed, pulled on some clothes and went out for the first of many breakfasts…as Leiso!
Upon our arrival at Ekipe, we got out of the van, pulled on our backpacks and then noticed a group of women in island dresses forming an entry way with palm leaves for all of us to walk through for the big welcome into the community center…or nakamael. When we entered the nakamael, all our host families were waiting – and chairs were lined up at the front of the room each labeled with a trainee’s name. Once we were all assembled, one of the 7 village chiefs welcomed us – and the festivities began! The air was so full of excitement – and every person in the village had the broadest, most infectious smile that I’ve ever seen. One darling toddler was dancing around the room and smiling at us with big sparkling eyes – while some of the other children were clearly unsure about all the white people at the front of the room and were peering out from behind their Papa’s back or peeking through their Mama’s arm as she held them tightly.
After 5 days of Bislama training, we had learned how to introduce ourselves along with a few other key phrases and felt pretty confident that we were ready for the village life. Well, that confidence drained out in about 2 minutes. The host “Papa” opened with a prayer and then began talking so fast that I thought he was actually an auctioneer who had shown up at the wrong place on the wrong day! As it turned out, the host Papa was Papa blong mi (my Papa) – and I suddenly realized that I couldn’t understand one damned thing he was saying. But like every other trainee, I kept the pasted-on smile and just nodded and laughed when everybody else did. Then each volunteer was called out individually – presented with a kastom (local ) name and was introduced to his or her host family – who then pulled an island shirt or dress over the volunteer’s head. We were already hot and overheated, but by the time the opening ceremonies were finished and we all had on 2 sets of clothes, I think we were bordering on heat stroke. But the fun had just begun – it was time to eat! Ahh – I saw some luscious-looking papaya (popo) and fresh, juicy grapefruit (pamplemousse) and some beautiful bananas (banana) – but what I didn’t realize is that the main dishes were steamed rice (which was fine) – topped with island cabbage (aelan kabis) soup – followed by several different kinds of yes, you guessed it – THE DREADED LAP-LAP!!
Finally, it was time to head to our respective homes for the next 8 weeks. Each of us waved goodbye to our colleagues, and headed off in various directions down a jungle path. Papa blong mi, Mama, and all the kids trudged along – with some help from the village boys to hoist my 2 large duffle bags, small suitcase, and Peace Corps-issued things: regulation 2” single-sized foam mattress, mosquito net, pillow, sheets, bucket (for whatever we need it for), medical kits, books, and assorted stuff. When we arrived at my host family’s home, I couldn’t believe my eyes. They had built me a small wooden bungalow with thatched (made of pandanu leaves) roof, the inside walls were covered with purple-print fabric (kaliko), and the floor was coral with locally-woven mats as a floor covering. My little bungalow consisted of 2 rooms – a small entry room with table and stool for studying, and a bedroom with a raised wooden platform bed just waiting for the mattress and mosquito net, and a small bookshelf. One of the kids had made a lovely bouquet of flowers and placed it on a little shelf just above my study table – fresh ginger flowers and banana leaves beautifully arranged in an empty peanut butter jar. Just seeing the smile on the kids’ faces as they showed me the flowers made it the most beautiful flower arrangement I’ve ever received.
Mama blong mi also had purchased a second island dress for me – which was ready and hanging inside my bungalow. Just a little aside here – an island dress is kind of like a stylized muumuu dress. It is made of bright, tropical-print kaliko, always has a full, gathered skirt – quite shapeless actually, with little points (called wings) of kaliko sewn around the waistband. These were introduced by the early missionaries as a modest covering for the local island women. They’re big, boxy, and ensure that no “curves” or other feminine features can be detected! One of the things that was stressed in our pre-packing lists and instructions was that pants or shorts were inappropriate for women in villages – you may get away with it in Port Vila, but skirts or dresses should be fairly loose and go to at least mid-calf -- or island dresses were the accepted dress code for the villages.
So, I took some time to unpack and get my little bungalow all situated and then rejoined the family outside for a tour of their “homestead”. They were so excited to show me their brand new outdoor dining area – a rough-hewn picnic table and bench built inside an open-aired thatched roof enclosure with a coral floor. There were some screens on two sides of the seating area – but I noticed two very large, gaping holes in the screen. One of the kids quickly told me “Wan bigfala rot hemi kakae scrin” (a big rat “ate” the screen)! (I was suddenly grateful that my bed was raised off the ground by a few feet.) I was also shown their “cook house” – a rectangular area with walls on one large side and one small side with a few shelves to store fresh food. All cooking was done within this roughly-constructed “house” over an open fire in the dirt. They also showed me the toilet and shower – yes, I did say shower! I was one of the very lucky few PC trainees in our village to have an actual shower. OK, it was cold river water piped from the hills – but nonetheless, it was a shower! We also had a toilet next to the shower – called a water-sealed toilet. It looked like a regular “john” – but there was a faucet inside the outhouse – once you were “finished” you filled the bucket with water and poured it into the bowl to flush the toilet. Believe me, it was absolutely wonderful to have a “flushable” toilet – some people did not have that luxury! There was even a small basin – with soap and a towel - balanced inside a tire mounted on a tree trunk outside the toilet as a hand-washing station. Papa Paul was also the village health care worker, so he was a believer in hand-washing. The running water in the village was only for washing clothes, showering, or toilet flushing – drinking water was obtained from a nearby well. Although a couple of homes in the village had a small solar panel, nearly everybody else used kerosene lanterns for light. No electricity is available yet in these northern villages.
By the time supper was finished (yep, you guessed it – more lap-lap left over from lunch), I had run through every single thing I knew or could understand in Bislama and was beginning to look and act like a mime – so by the time it was dark around 7 pm, I turned in for my first night’s sleep in Ekipe. Just before hopping into my little rustic bed, I stepped back outside my bungalow with water bottle in hand to brush my teeth. I thought I knew what “dark” was – but boy was I wrong. With no light to “pollute” the sky, the stars were simply phenomenal – but I actually had to go back into my bungalow for my small PC-issued solar lantern to be able to see where to walk to brush my teeth and spit! I lingered outside for a few moments just to drink in the darkness, the sounds of the palm trees blowing, and the sound of the ocean (about a 5-minute walk away). I have to say that I felt pretty small and insignificant – and very far from home.
So, I settled in for a good night’s rest. I awoke at about 5:30 am to hear the sounds of the fire being started and the kids outside playing. As extroverted as I may seem, the opposite is often quite true. I suddenly got this feeling in the pit of my stomach – and the first thought I had was “God, don’t make me go outside this bungalow today!” So, I just lay quietly within my mosquito-netted not-so-quite Westin Heavenly Bed trying to decide what to do next. Within 30 minutes or so, I noticed some loud whispers outside my bungalow…”Leiso…Leiso”. I thought the kids were playing some game…but then a tap came on my door with a much more insistent “LEISOOOO”! OMG – that’s now my name – I’m no longer Carla…I’m now LEISO!! I replied with a fairly anemic-sounding…”Yesss??” – which was followed by “Leiso…yumi kaekae naoia” (Leiso…we eat now). With that I got out of bed, pulled on some clothes and went out for the first of many breakfasts…as Leiso!
WHERE THE HECK IS PANGO??
Bauer Field International Airport in Port Vila, Vanuatu sounds like a big place, huh – well, let’s just say that there are no jet ways…or air conditioned lobbies here! After 25 years of visiting the South Pacific, this is the first time where I’m told to complete the customs form as a “resident” and cue up in the “resident” line for a passport check. I think it began to dawn on all of us that we’re here to stay…no turning back now!! Since nearly everybody brought spices and teas, all of us had to endure a bag check through Customs. Everybody’s spices were confiscated – but after 10 minutes of searching and pulling things out of my 2 duffel bags, the customs agent finally gave up with a smile and said “I OK – you mo spice blong you go naoia! (It’s OK - You and your spices can now go!)
With that we headed outside to a huge welcome from the Vanuatu PC staff and volunteers. And what a welcome it was – hugs, flower leis, sarongs for everybody, and fresh coconut juice in the shell. I’ve gotta tell you that it was a teary, emotional moment for many of us. After such a long wait, we were HERE…ACTUALLY HERE!! It was a beautiful sunny, hot Sunday morning in Vanuatu – yes Sunday the 12th. Since we had crossed the International Date Line, we had missed Saturday! We chatted with everybody, had a group photo shot, and then boarded vans for a quick drive-through tour of Port Vila and headed for the IDS Camp in Pango…wherever the heck that is! Pango, as it turns out is a small village on the outskirts of Port Vila – and the Peace Corps had arranged for “lodging” at the IDS Bible Camp for our first 5 days in Vanuatu. The camp was very close to the ocean on a wide expanse of green with lots of towering palm trees.
Reality about our PC service hit us pretty quickly when we realized that the women were being housed in tiny bungalows consisting of an entry room and 2 other small rooms. Two people slept in beds in the entry room, while 4 of us shared each of the small rooms in mosquito-shrouded bunk beds. The men we were housed in an Army barracks-type building in bunk beds. We thought we were roughing it when we realized there was no hot water – just cold showers (3 for the women) – and electricity for just a few hours in the evening. Without realizing it, we were being “eased in” to the Vanuatu lifestyle.
We spent the next 5 days at Pango with classes from 8:30 – 4:30 each day. Bislama language class started, and it dawned on me that I was a total idiot when it came to learning a foreign language. Fortunately, many of us felt the same way, so at least we had somebody to commiserate with! Much of the classwork focused on Safety and Security – we learned how to discourage the custom of “creeping” – which means that we could be awakened at night by a local man appearing at our window – or calling to us from outside our house.
We also started learning about all the medical things that we need to understand – things like choosing a malaria-prevention medication, starting our inoculations against things like typhoid, hepatitis A&B and Gawd knows what else – not to mention the likelihood that we will all have worms at some point in our service…and probably even head lice!! Oh yes, we were also issued two extensive PC-issued medical kits that contained just about everything a small dispensary in the states would have – including deworming pills – as well as a malaria test kit with which to test ourselves for malaria at the first signs of illness – complete with sharps and a glass slide on which to smear one’s blood. Each of us had to do the test in class…complete with piercing our finger and spreading the blood onto the slide. Thankfully, none of us tested positive for malaria at this point – although the nurse said it was likely that some of us already had the malaria “bug” already in our liver – but that the anti-malarial medication would keep it from manifesting itself into full-blown malaria. It was at this point when I began to wonder just whose bright idea this was for me to join the Peace Corps anyway??? We also learned a good bit about each other as part of our frank and candid lessons and discussions related to sexual health and STDs – and how to avoid any problems during our 27-month stay in this island paradise.
One of the good things about the training was that each of us got a short medical check while we were being given our vaccinations. The doc listened to my cough – and finally diagnosed me correctly with an ear infection in both ears as well as a sinus infection – and promptly started me on a 10-day routine of amoxicillin. I started feeling … and sounding… better within a few days, so my fears of being sent home with whooping cough were totally unfounded!
Reality also hit me in the face late one afternoon when I headed into the shower only to be greeted by a “bigfala spyder” (huge spider) on the wall. And I do mean BIGFALA – it’s body was about the size of a half-dollar and it’s leg span was as big as my hand span. After running out of the building fully terrorized I realized that there was nobody there to run in and kill the spider for me – and at last I went back in and took my shower. Bigfala spider was still on the wall after I left – and I was none the worse for the terror!
The other big adjustment at Pango was the food! Local “Mamas” came to IDS each day to prepare breakfast, lunch, and supper for us. Breakfast usually consisted of tea or hot chocolate with either bread or breakfast crackers – and sometimes some fresh fruit. Lunch and dinner usually consisted of steamed rice, some kind of “soup” to put on the rice – and usually some form of “lap-lap”. No that wasn’t a typo…it was lap-lap – a local dish made of grated manioc (cassava) mixed with water, and then steamed inside a banana leaf. There was no seasoning in it – and I’m here to tell you that it tasted and chewed kind of like a piece of soft rubber. Now anybody who knows me knows that I am pretty adventurous when it comes to food – but I’m not sure this was food!! At any rate, we all smiled, ate it, and swallowed! However, we were all counting the days until we got to our village where we would get “real” food.
During our 5-day stop-over at Pango, Eddie Stice (the PC Country Director) and his wife had all of us to their home one evening for a wonderful dinner – topped off with a kava ceremony. Now kava is a uniquely-South Pacific beverage. It is made from the ground…or chewed-up…root of the kava plant – which is then mixed with water and served. I’ve had kava several other times in the islands, so I opted not to indulge this evening. But, stay tuned – I’m sure there will be more about kava later!
After a wonderful evening, it was back to Pango. All of us were counting the days until we left Pango for our respective villages.
With that we headed outside to a huge welcome from the Vanuatu PC staff and volunteers. And what a welcome it was – hugs, flower leis, sarongs for everybody, and fresh coconut juice in the shell. I’ve gotta tell you that it was a teary, emotional moment for many of us. After such a long wait, we were HERE…ACTUALLY HERE!! It was a beautiful sunny, hot Sunday morning in Vanuatu – yes Sunday the 12th. Since we had crossed the International Date Line, we had missed Saturday! We chatted with everybody, had a group photo shot, and then boarded vans for a quick drive-through tour of Port Vila and headed for the IDS Camp in Pango…wherever the heck that is! Pango, as it turns out is a small village on the outskirts of Port Vila – and the Peace Corps had arranged for “lodging” at the IDS Bible Camp for our first 5 days in Vanuatu. The camp was very close to the ocean on a wide expanse of green with lots of towering palm trees.
Reality about our PC service hit us pretty quickly when we realized that the women were being housed in tiny bungalows consisting of an entry room and 2 other small rooms. Two people slept in beds in the entry room, while 4 of us shared each of the small rooms in mosquito-shrouded bunk beds. The men we were housed in an Army barracks-type building in bunk beds. We thought we were roughing it when we realized there was no hot water – just cold showers (3 for the women) – and electricity for just a few hours in the evening. Without realizing it, we were being “eased in” to the Vanuatu lifestyle.
We spent the next 5 days at Pango with classes from 8:30 – 4:30 each day. Bislama language class started, and it dawned on me that I was a total idiot when it came to learning a foreign language. Fortunately, many of us felt the same way, so at least we had somebody to commiserate with! Much of the classwork focused on Safety and Security – we learned how to discourage the custom of “creeping” – which means that we could be awakened at night by a local man appearing at our window – or calling to us from outside our house.
We also started learning about all the medical things that we need to understand – things like choosing a malaria-prevention medication, starting our inoculations against things like typhoid, hepatitis A&B and Gawd knows what else – not to mention the likelihood that we will all have worms at some point in our service…and probably even head lice!! Oh yes, we were also issued two extensive PC-issued medical kits that contained just about everything a small dispensary in the states would have – including deworming pills – as well as a malaria test kit with which to test ourselves for malaria at the first signs of illness – complete with sharps and a glass slide on which to smear one’s blood. Each of us had to do the test in class…complete with piercing our finger and spreading the blood onto the slide. Thankfully, none of us tested positive for malaria at this point – although the nurse said it was likely that some of us already had the malaria “bug” already in our liver – but that the anti-malarial medication would keep it from manifesting itself into full-blown malaria. It was at this point when I began to wonder just whose bright idea this was for me to join the Peace Corps anyway??? We also learned a good bit about each other as part of our frank and candid lessons and discussions related to sexual health and STDs – and how to avoid any problems during our 27-month stay in this island paradise.
One of the good things about the training was that each of us got a short medical check while we were being given our vaccinations. The doc listened to my cough – and finally diagnosed me correctly with an ear infection in both ears as well as a sinus infection – and promptly started me on a 10-day routine of amoxicillin. I started feeling … and sounding… better within a few days, so my fears of being sent home with whooping cough were totally unfounded!
Reality also hit me in the face late one afternoon when I headed into the shower only to be greeted by a “bigfala spyder” (huge spider) on the wall. And I do mean BIGFALA – it’s body was about the size of a half-dollar and it’s leg span was as big as my hand span. After running out of the building fully terrorized I realized that there was nobody there to run in and kill the spider for me – and at last I went back in and took my shower. Bigfala spider was still on the wall after I left – and I was none the worse for the terror!
The other big adjustment at Pango was the food! Local “Mamas” came to IDS each day to prepare breakfast, lunch, and supper for us. Breakfast usually consisted of tea or hot chocolate with either bread or breakfast crackers – and sometimes some fresh fruit. Lunch and dinner usually consisted of steamed rice, some kind of “soup” to put on the rice – and usually some form of “lap-lap”. No that wasn’t a typo…it was lap-lap – a local dish made of grated manioc (cassava) mixed with water, and then steamed inside a banana leaf. There was no seasoning in it – and I’m here to tell you that it tasted and chewed kind of like a piece of soft rubber. Now anybody who knows me knows that I am pretty adventurous when it comes to food – but I’m not sure this was food!! At any rate, we all smiled, ate it, and swallowed! However, we were all counting the days until we got to our village where we would get “real” food.
During our 5-day stop-over at Pango, Eddie Stice (the PC Country Director) and his wife had all of us to their home one evening for a wonderful dinner – topped off with a kava ceremony. Now kava is a uniquely-South Pacific beverage. It is made from the ground…or chewed-up…root of the kava plant – which is then mixed with water and served. I’ve had kava several other times in the islands, so I opted not to indulge this evening. But, stay tuned – I’m sure there will be more about kava later!
After a wonderful evening, it was back to Pango. All of us were counting the days until we left Pango for our respective villages.
SEPTEMBER 9-10, 2010 - STAGING...And Away We Go!
My last week in Denver was busy with final preparations for the big day. I packed and repacked my bags and believe it or not I got everything that I think I’ll need for the next two years into two duffel bags that will be checked, one small carry-on, and my backpack. Not only that, but it also met the weight limitations! Lucy, my kitty, is starting to settle in with Sue and Brian’s menagerie – although there have been a few turf battles between her and Phoebe!
The biggest worry that I’ve had over the last several weeks is the fact that I haven’t been able to get rid of an upper respiratory infection – despite the fact that I’ve been to the doctor 3 times, finished 3 different types of prescriptions, and downed countless shots of vodka – per my brother Kelly’s advice. Although the vodka hasn’t cured the cough – I haven’t minded it as much!! But seriously, I am worried that the Peace Corps personnel at the “Staging” event in Los Angeles may not allow me to board the plane because I honestly sound like somebody who has whooping cough! I’m taking lots of Hall’s Mentholyptus and hoping for the best!
Well, September 9th dawned, the furniture and car is in storage, and my goodbyes have been said – so it’s off to Los Angeles to meet everybody else heading to Vanuatu. As I boarded the hotel van at Los Angeles International Airport, I thought I spotted two other people who were volunteers – and later it was confirmed when I saw them in line at the Peace Corps registration desk.
The only thing scheduled after our arrival on Thursday, the 9th, was final completion of the mountain of forms that we’re required to bring with us and get them checked off by the 3 Peace Corps trainers and then get acquainted with everybody else in the group. We have 41 volunteers heading to Vanuatu – with a wide range of backgrounds…and ages. I might add that I am not the oldest person in the group. In fact, there are 8 of us who fall within the 50+ category of recruits, so I’m relieved to know that I’m likely not the only “Grandma” in the group. We pretty much take over the bar and grill at the hotel and spend a couple of hours over pizza and beer to get acquainted. I am absolutely amazed at the background of some of these “kids”. Some of them have already worked or volunteered in very remote locales throughout the world – Africa, South America, Mexico, Europe. It really seems to be an amazing group of people.
Friday, September 10th, we all meet in the conference room to get started at 8:30. Today is primarily spent on various break-out sessions and ice-breakers to get acquainted, and in turn learn about the history of the Peace Corps, its objectives, and its expectations of us as volunteers. As we wrap up for the day, the excitement in the room is palpable – all of us are “chomping at the bit” to head out. Thankfully the staff didn’t tell me that I had to go home because of my cough, so I was ready to go!
At last the buses pull up, and we begin to load the literal mountains of luggage. Our itinerary says that we are flying on a United flight operated by Air New Zealand – so the buses pull up in front of the United terminal at Los Angeles International. The lead person on our bus asks the bus driver if this is in fact the correct place to be, since it looks like we might need to be at the Air New Zealand terminal. He assures everybody that we are in the right place and begins unloading all the bags. So, in we trek – and line up for check-in. Well, yes – you’ve guessed it – we were in the wrong terminal. By now the buses are nowhere in site – and we’re left with figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B. If you have never traveled through Los Angeles International, let me just say that it is pretty big and it’s not particularly easy to get from one end to the other with so many bags. There was no way that we could possibly load all the bags onto the airport bus that came by, so we found carts and walked all the way around the terminal grounds – cutting through parking lots and Lord knows what else to finally arrive at the Air New Zealand counter. It took about 2 hours for everybody to get checked in – and after a few more beers and some snacks at one of the restaurants we were at last ready to board!
Thirteen hours later, we arrive at Auckland International Airport in the wee morning hours on Sunday, September 12th – because we crossed the International Date Line, Saturday, the 11th, was nowhere to be found! After a layover of a few hours, at last we boarded the plane for the 3-hour flight to Port Vila, Vanuatu.
I was listening to music on the plane’s headphones, and just as the first of Vanuatu’s islands came into site, Susan Boyle’s rendition of I Dreamed a Dream started playing. It was uncanny because I was thinking of all those years ago when Frank and I had first entertained the idea of Peace Corps – and this song began to play. As I squeezed my eyes tight to keep the tears from coming I realized that there was no doubt that he was right next to me with his nose pressed against the window just waiting for our next adventure to begin…so away we go!
The biggest worry that I’ve had over the last several weeks is the fact that I haven’t been able to get rid of an upper respiratory infection – despite the fact that I’ve been to the doctor 3 times, finished 3 different types of prescriptions, and downed countless shots of vodka – per my brother Kelly’s advice. Although the vodka hasn’t cured the cough – I haven’t minded it as much!! But seriously, I am worried that the Peace Corps personnel at the “Staging” event in Los Angeles may not allow me to board the plane because I honestly sound like somebody who has whooping cough! I’m taking lots of Hall’s Mentholyptus and hoping for the best!
Well, September 9th dawned, the furniture and car is in storage, and my goodbyes have been said – so it’s off to Los Angeles to meet everybody else heading to Vanuatu. As I boarded the hotel van at Los Angeles International Airport, I thought I spotted two other people who were volunteers – and later it was confirmed when I saw them in line at the Peace Corps registration desk.
The only thing scheduled after our arrival on Thursday, the 9th, was final completion of the mountain of forms that we’re required to bring with us and get them checked off by the 3 Peace Corps trainers and then get acquainted with everybody else in the group. We have 41 volunteers heading to Vanuatu – with a wide range of backgrounds…and ages. I might add that I am not the oldest person in the group. In fact, there are 8 of us who fall within the 50+ category of recruits, so I’m relieved to know that I’m likely not the only “Grandma” in the group. We pretty much take over the bar and grill at the hotel and spend a couple of hours over pizza and beer to get acquainted. I am absolutely amazed at the background of some of these “kids”. Some of them have already worked or volunteered in very remote locales throughout the world – Africa, South America, Mexico, Europe. It really seems to be an amazing group of people.
Friday, September 10th, we all meet in the conference room to get started at 8:30. Today is primarily spent on various break-out sessions and ice-breakers to get acquainted, and in turn learn about the history of the Peace Corps, its objectives, and its expectations of us as volunteers. As we wrap up for the day, the excitement in the room is palpable – all of us are “chomping at the bit” to head out. Thankfully the staff didn’t tell me that I had to go home because of my cough, so I was ready to go!
At last the buses pull up, and we begin to load the literal mountains of luggage. Our itinerary says that we are flying on a United flight operated by Air New Zealand – so the buses pull up in front of the United terminal at Los Angeles International. The lead person on our bus asks the bus driver if this is in fact the correct place to be, since it looks like we might need to be at the Air New Zealand terminal. He assures everybody that we are in the right place and begins unloading all the bags. So, in we trek – and line up for check-in. Well, yes – you’ve guessed it – we were in the wrong terminal. By now the buses are nowhere in site – and we’re left with figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B. If you have never traveled through Los Angeles International, let me just say that it is pretty big and it’s not particularly easy to get from one end to the other with so many bags. There was no way that we could possibly load all the bags onto the airport bus that came by, so we found carts and walked all the way around the terminal grounds – cutting through parking lots and Lord knows what else to finally arrive at the Air New Zealand counter. It took about 2 hours for everybody to get checked in – and after a few more beers and some snacks at one of the restaurants we were at last ready to board!
Thirteen hours later, we arrive at Auckland International Airport in the wee morning hours on Sunday, September 12th – because we crossed the International Date Line, Saturday, the 11th, was nowhere to be found! After a layover of a few hours, at last we boarded the plane for the 3-hour flight to Port Vila, Vanuatu.
I was listening to music on the plane’s headphones, and just as the first of Vanuatu’s islands came into site, Susan Boyle’s rendition of I Dreamed a Dream started playing. It was uncanny because I was thinking of all those years ago when Frank and I had first entertained the idea of Peace Corps – and this song began to play. As I squeezed my eyes tight to keep the tears from coming I realized that there was no doubt that he was right next to me with his nose pressed against the window just waiting for our next adventure to begin…so away we go!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Movin' Along...
September 9th is just on the horizon...and believe it or not I think I'm ready!! But whew -- what a crazy time it's been. I've spent the last month getting ready to move from my loft and put 40+ years of "stuff" in storage. However, when I got the estimate for 40+ years of storage, my "must haves" turned into "must sheds" -- so I've been going through closets, clothes, drawers and every nook and cranny - and have "pawned" off everything I can to my kids. After trimming down considerably -- including divesting myself of lots of furniture -- the movers arrived on Tuesday to pack up everything -- and then arrived bright and early on Wednesday to load. Yes, I breathed a big sigh of relief when the big red truck rolled away from the curb -- but must admit that my loft looked a bit forlorn and lonely -- kind of how I felt for a few minutes as well! But just for a few minutes...I started thinking about the path ahead and swallowed the lump in my throat and furiously cleaned the rooms one last time.
Earlier in the month I spent a week visiting family throughout Maryland and Pennsylvania - including getting my "fix" of crab cakes and steamed crabs. I was able to spend time with everybody -- including a great day-long famiy reunion in Baltimore. The weather cooperated -- and every day was filled with lots of memories and laughter -- so I feel well-armed to move ahead.
This month too I've been able to talk to a volunteer currently serving in Vanuatu -- as well as to a volunteer who recently returned from Vanuatu. Their insights and tips have been absolutely invaluable and have really boosted my confidence as well. I've also met another person from the Denver area who is heading off to Vanuatu in September. He and I attended a Rotary meeting in Denver where we met a couple who spent 2 years in Vanuatu from 2006-2008. Denver Rotarians are piloting a project to seek out opportunities to team with Peace Corps on projects across the globe, so we're hoping to find some teaming opportunities.
So, most of the prep is in place. I'm now camping at my daughter's home taking some time to decompress and relax -- and get my hair cut and colored one last time!! After all...first things first!
Earlier in the month I spent a week visiting family throughout Maryland and Pennsylvania - including getting my "fix" of crab cakes and steamed crabs. I was able to spend time with everybody -- including a great day-long famiy reunion in Baltimore. The weather cooperated -- and every day was filled with lots of memories and laughter -- so I feel well-armed to move ahead.
This month too I've been able to talk to a volunteer currently serving in Vanuatu -- as well as to a volunteer who recently returned from Vanuatu. Their insights and tips have been absolutely invaluable and have really boosted my confidence as well. I've also met another person from the Denver area who is heading off to Vanuatu in September. He and I attended a Rotary meeting in Denver where we met a couple who spent 2 years in Vanuatu from 2006-2008. Denver Rotarians are piloting a project to seek out opportunities to team with Peace Corps on projects across the globe, so we're hoping to find some teaming opportunities.
So, most of the prep is in place. I'm now camping at my daughter's home taking some time to decompress and relax -- and get my hair cut and colored one last time!! After all...first things first!
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