A little update

Ok, so I realize I haven't been doing the best job lately at keeping up on my blog. I blame this on two things. First, would be the absolutely terrible computers and internet that I am able to access a few times a month. Yeah, I know it's an excuse, but it's still valid. Secondly, I've become too used to life here, and many of the daily sights I see have become routine and no longer as interesting to me. It would be like you writing about how you woke up in the morning and brushed your teeth and drove to work. No one really wants to hear about it. But then I realize that my life isn't quite what many people would consider "normal", so maybe I should do a better job at keeping people up to date.
As some of you know, I went back to Port Vila a few weeks ago. I went to the airport in Tanna and went through the normal check in routine, which is quite simple. First I stand on a scale. They measure everyone's weight before flying, because the plane is quite small, and a little extra weight isn't the best thing to have when flying over open ocean water in a plane the size of a car. Next I pass through security. This entails a man putting a sticker that says security on everything that I am carrying on the plane. He doesn't even look inside my bag. They're very trusting people. I once carried my bush knife (a 2 foot machete) with me to go on the plane. I was stopped in security so they could put a security sticker on it, and then I proceeded on. No joke. I noticed a few tourists at the airport. They opted not to take the flight after they saw the size of the plane. I boarded the plane, which seriously felt like the size of a car. The pilot routinely turned around and talked to us. The ride was sort of like a roller coaster, dropping and climbing at what felt like only a few hundred meters over the blue water. Man Tanna (what we call natives of Tanna) clearly aren't used to flying. The man sitting next to me looked very nervous and felt compelled to read his bible incase something went wrong. The other people were very anxious too. The flight was only one hour, yet they must have asked what time it was 5 times, just wishing the hour was up. And Man Tanna never ask what time it is. Before that flight, I didn't even know they had a concept of time. But we eventually made it safely to Port Vila.
Walking into the airport there, I was immediately taken back by the sights of TV's, computers, and pay phones. Woah. I found a bus and took it town, where I proceeded directly to the grocery store. Woah again. So many choices, what do I want to eat first? I bought a combination of junk food and headed to a near by hotel where I had a room reserved. As I walked along the road to the hotel, I couldn't help but feel giddy. I saw other white people, lots of trucks and cars, paved roads, and stores that are actually stores, not just a tin hut with terrible tin fish and rice inside. I got to my room and was once again taken back. At this point I couldn't stop laughing, it was just too much. I had a clean room, a real bed, a fan, electricty, and a HOT SHOWER!
Throughout the next week, I had meetings everyday with an environmental orginazation that I am coordinating my work with. Everyday, from 7:30-4:30, I sat inside a building and discussed work plans and budgeting. Now sitting in a meeting is not an easy thing for me to do. But after taking me from the bush, where there is no such thing as time, chairs, buildings, and power point presentations, the meetings were pure torture. I fidgeted in my seat like a 3 year old for 5 straight days. I will never work an office job in my life, and you can quote me on that.
Besides the meeting, I enjoyed meeting up with some other volunteers in Vila. We went sailing at sundown one afternoon and went out for Thai and Sushi other nights. I also ate a pizza nearly every day, and bought ice cream and chocalate at every store, even if I had just bought some at the previous store.
The city life gets old though, and I was ready to return to Tanna. I took a slightly larger plane on the way back, which held about 10-15 people and one very loud crying baby. I returned to my house that afternoon. It was good to be back, see my family, and see that my dog was still alive and kicking. Being back in the bush was quite a change. Going from Vila to the village life is always an adjustment, but this just isn't any village in the bush. This is most likely the smallest village in Tanna, maybe even in Vanuatu now that I think about it. My papa, my mama, brother, two sisters, nephew, and niece. A total of 7 people, living in a quiet clearing in the jungle. Can't get much more peaceful than that.
As glad as I was to be back, I realized that I still had to adjust to bush life again, even after only being in Vila for less than two weeks. Back to eating the same bland, sometime inedible food everyday (but which is also free). Back to bathing in the ice cold, fish filled stream. And back to hiking 30 minutes to carry drinking water back home; drinking water which ended up quickly infecting me with giardia for the second time. For those of you who haven't had giardia, be glad. I tell my family that I'm sick. They tell me it's because I've walked around too much. No that's not it I tell them. It's because you exercised all day they say. What?! That makes no sense. But how do you explain to them that you've got a protozoan parasite inside of you when they have no concept of any organism smaller than what they can see with their own eyes. After a few days of medicine I was feeling better and able to be out and about more.
I went and visited a near by village (hour and a half walk one way) because they have an area of jungle that they are interested in making a conservation area. I arrived and the first thing I hear is that "oh, you've become fatfat now". That is atleast the fifth time I have heard that in a matter of a few days. The thing is, I haven't even gained weight, if anything, I've lost it. I now know that they think that everytime someone goes into Vila they get fat from eating all different kinds of food, as opposed to the same root crops we eat every single day. I've also heard them call people who are in incredible shape fatfat too, so I'm still not sure whether to take it as a compliment or not. Anyways, I brought with me a GPS unit to map out the conservation area. I head into the bush with about five other guys, who will lead me along the boundaries of the area, which they have memorized just by looking at trees and other natural boundary markers. The walk is INTENSE. We start out in a dry stream bed, which heads straight up the hill. I'm holding onto anything I can, rocks, roots, small plants, and vines, to pull myself up. I reach one section of rock which is vertical. Even Man Tanna is having problems getting up the hill. One man even fell and had a nice sharp stick leave a lasting impression into his shin. We finally make it to the top though, rising 450 meters with out a whole lot of horizontal gain. After a breif walk along the top, we have to head back down the other side. Going down is just as hard, if not harder. Gravity wants to pull me down faster than I would rather go. At one point, I have no choice but to "ski" down, except instead of skis I have bare feet. We get down into the valley again, so far down, that the GPS cannot find satellite reception. I find a tree to climb for better reception, but after only a few feet up I find out the hard way it is a "stinging" tree. My group points out a strong vine, which twists like a snake from the top of the canopy down to the ground. They tell me it is strong and can hold me. I believe them, why shouldn't I? They know the bush better than anyone. I start pulling myself up the vine. At about 30 feet up I hear a crack, which signals to me to hold on tight. I take a fun, quick ride back down to the forest floor. Lucky for me it wasn't the vine that broke, but the branch holding it. It was sort of like a bungee cord, letting me fall to what felt like just a few inches off the ground, where I was able to land on my feet. Everyone had a great laugh about that. They have a different sense of humor, sort of like the three stuges, where getting hurt is funny. But I was hurt in the end, so I just laughed along. By this point though, I told them it wasn't important for me to climb anything else to get satellite reception, we can just continue on. We all finished the hike in one piece though.
That is the only work for the project that I've really done since coming back into Tanna. Now is the time for holidays, so everyone takes a break from working, even though no one works in the first place, but that's besides the point. I've been killing my free time with lots of drawing, exercising, reading, and staring at walls. After a week straight of boredom though, I decided to take a break and come into Lenakel, the "city" I am in now. I started walking at 4:30 this morning to the nearest road to catch a truck into town. I found a truck after an hour, and just squeezed into the back of it. Well, I actually was on the outside of the truck. One man was holding onto my hand so I wouldn't fall off, and the man holding onto me was holding onto another man so he wouldn't fall of too. ha. It was like clowns riding a little circus car. It wasn't quite a car, but I would consider it a rather small truck. I was so impressed that I took the time to count the 24 of us who fit onto it. So for the rest of today I'm just relaxing, meeting up with a few volunteers, and then it's back to the bush.
Sorry for such a long post, but it's been a while. I'll try to get more pictures up soon for those of you who like picture books over real ones like me.

Toka

9/27/07- Yesterday I hopped on a truck and headed down to the southern part of the island. The Nekowiar dance (commonly referred to as the Toka) was currently taking place, and I just couldn’t miss it. The dance is the largest custom festival in all of Vanuatu, and it only happens every few years. This festival is a symbol of alliance between different tribal groups and the more one gives, the larger status they acquire.
The ride there had its thrills. Ten of us were piled into the truck and heading up a very steep muddy road. Ten of us in the truck wasn’t unusual, in fact, it was less people than we normally would fit in. But the edge of the road (for the lack of a better term) was bordering a rather large cliff. As the truck slid sideways, trying to climb up the road, I sat on the edge of the back, ready to jump off incase the truck plummeted. Good thing it didn’t, the people actually in the cab wouldn’t have had too much luck getting out in time. We all had a good laugh about it once we had made it. We stopped close to the top of the hill at a small village, and walked the rest of the way to the nakamal, where the dance was taking place. As we arrived, a group of men were just finishing their performance of chanting, singing, and stomping as the sun began to set. That was alright with me though. The dancing had already been going for a couple of days; they’ve got to take a break sometime. I hung out with some fellow volunteers to kill the time, and then we heard the sound of women yelling and beating their woven baskets in unison. We headed back towards the nakamal, but with so many people there to watch the Toka, it was difficult to see. The local boys had made small platforms up in the trees though, and it seemed like a good opportunity for a view. After asking around, I was given permission to walk inside the bamboo fence surrounding the nakamal and climb a banyon tree. The platform was out on a limb not near the trunk, so I reluctantly tight rope walked down a branch to a woven bamboo platform. The risk was definately worth the view though.
Looking overhead, I could see multiple groups of women, each representing a village. They all wore colorful grass skirts, flowers, and had their faces elaborately painted. Each group was performing different version of a dance called napen napen, beating woven pandanus leaf baskets like drums. Around each group, men ran and jumped around. These men were "security". They had to dance around the women to protect them, because during Toka, a man can do whatever he wants to a women and not be held accountable for it. The dancing continued into the night, with the men hopping around the women the whole time. The intensity of the dancing only increased as the night went on. I sat watching, trying to take in the surreals sites of one of the last great custom festivals in the South Pacific. The crowds of people surrounding the nakamal slowly decreased as the night went on as they headed to make-shift shelters to get a few hours of sleep. I, however, was not going to miss a moment. I sat up in that tree until 2 in the morning, before coming down to grab a bushel of bananas, which I immediately brought back up with me in the tree. At 3 in the morning, I heard the sound of Bubu shells blowing, meaning the real Toka dancing was drawing nearer. Just after 3, the first group of men came into the nakamal together, surrounding a pole they were holding called the kerriya. The kerriya was lowered, and then the dancing began, representing scenes of daily life. Some men were stomping, some had sticks to make rythym with, and others performed more elaborate dances on the outskirts of the group. One man made a mistake while running and dancing, colliding with another man. He was knocked down to the ground, and eventually carried away with more than likely some broken ribs. Up until that moment, I didn't know Tanna men could be hurt. I mean even the Mamas here would put men to shame in America with their toughness. Regardless, the dancing went on. A little before 5 the sun began to come up. I was thankful for that, because I had not been able to capture photos and videos of this amazing performance that I had been watching for the last 10 hours. As one group of men finished their Toka dance, a new group would come into the nakamal. The crowd of spectators began to grow again, and more men started climbing the trees. With more than 10 men on the small platform that I called home for the night, I could feel the branches underneath starting to bend. I took the cue and headed down to solid ground to see the few other volunteers that had came with me. They had given up in the middle of the night and left to sleep a few hours at a small village before returning. I told them I was ready to go home and sleep. 7 in the morning never felt so late before. We left, but the Toka continued, I just couldn't make it any longer. This time we got 15 men into the truck. Half of us had to push the truck to get it started and then jump in. We creeped back down the steep hills, which was just as scary as going up them. We made it safely to the bottom though, before the truck stalled, and we were forced to push it again. After a few stalls we made it back though, and it was time for sleep. I could still hear the chanting in my head as I drifted off to sleep.
(Hopefully I will get my Toka pictures and videos sent home and put on here in the next 2-3 weeks. Patience everyone, this is island time.)

A day at the garden

9/15/07-Saturday is not a day of resting but a day of working in the garden. All of that free food has to have some cost. I left with the entire family around 7, with tools and pots in hand. After crossing the stream, Katin, Jebi, and Naloma (my youngest sister) split from the others and headed off in search of brasin, or what you may know as the really big grub that live in decaying logs. I had been asking to see them, so we were going to find some before heading to the garden to meet the others. Katin found the right kind of log where they stay, he started chopping the log and pulling them out. They were gigantic. We had found three or four of them, but he just kept going. Then we had close to 20 of them. We also found some that had started to change from a grub into a beetle, and we also found some fully developed beetles in the logs too. One beetle had to be four or five inches long, I couldn’t believe the size of it! I was in bug heaven, holding the largest beetle I’d ever seen, until Katin handed me the next one. In the end, we had to have found close to 50 of them, which we put into bamboo, so we could eat them later of course. The four of us headed to one of my papa’s gardens to cut some sugarcane, island cabbage, and papaya, before making our way to my sister Marie’s garden, where the rest of my family went to work. After a long and at times steep walk, we came to the opening. Bob had already started plowing with something resembling a pick axe. I asked to help, he said no, but I insisted. They like to shelter me from dirty or physical work for whatever reason. He gave in and let me start plowing the ground. I plowed until my hands were torn with blisters until giving up. To occupy my time I started trying to climb a papaya tree. I had seen Jebi and countless other kids do it. The problem is, the tree doesn’t have branches, but just goes straight up like a light pole. It really is amazing to see them climb, like when they go straight up a coconut tree 40 feet in the air. After my second try though, I was able to get half way up. After practicing my climbing skills, it was time to eat some Tanna soup (boiled tarot or yam with lettuce and some kind of meat like chicken or pig). Everything we needed for eating was found in the garden, except for the pots and chicken that was carried to the garden with bound legs. To go along with the soup was the grubs and beetles. I was obviously a little apprehensive about eating giant squishy grubs, but I am making an effort to try everything their culture entails. I bit off the rear of the grub first, pulling out its digestion tract and throwing that aside at least. The rest went into my mouth, except for the head, which was also discarded. I can’t describe the taste or texture. I will say it wasn’t my favorite thing I’ve ever tasted, but it wasn’t all that bad so I ate three more. After I had my fill of grubs, I asked where the giant walking stick was the sister Naloma had found earlier. My sister took the giant walking stick (around a foot long) and threw it on the fire. After it was thoroughly browned, I ate him too. At least the walking stick was crunchy. It tasted like roasted yam to me, so it wasn’t so bad. With the walking stick finished, I turned to the fully developed beetles that were now finished roasting. They tasted the same as the grubs, but they too were a little crunchier. I ripped the wings off first, ate its abdomen, and then its thorax. The thorax must be really good for you. There are a lot of very strong flight muscles in it, especially with a beetle that large. It almost had a meat like texture, but not quite the taste. I was pretty full of bugs by this point, but my sister Marie came up to me with a bowl full of Tanna soup, except this time, the meat they used in it was flying fox. I was so full I couldn’t eat the soup, but I couldn’t turn down the flying fox meat. I had heard it was good, and I was not disappointed. Hopefully my slingshot on the way here will help me eat plenty more. With my stomach full and plenty of energy, I started practicing my climbing again on bigger trees, and I was able to climb up 20 feet rather easily. I then moved to a coconut tree, but since its trunk was wider, it was much harder to climb. I’m hoping with a little practice every week, I will soon be able to scale up a coconut tree for a refreshing drink instead of searching for a long stick to knock one down with. After wearing myself out on trees on went and helped my sister start preparing laplap by opening up coconuts to be used to scratching to get their milk. They make it look so easy, but it is taking me some time to get a good grip on that talent. Once all of the coconuts had been opened, I snacked on some sugarcane, papaya, a type of bean, and a nut that sort of taste like coconut but is only the size of an almond. These foods are more typical of what I eat, not grubs, walking sticks, and cats, so don’t you guys worry too much. We’ll eat normal things when you come. By this point, work on the garden was wrapping up. We piled up mounds of dirt and planted yam inside of them, and we also planted corn in between the mounds of dirt. The work on the garden was finally finished. I killed time trying my hand at throwing simple spears made out of sticks for fun until the laplap was ready. We ate quickly and then it was time to head back home, nearly 12 hours since we had left that morning. It was dark by the time we got back, but I grabbed my headlamp and headed down to the stream to swim. There are some very big spiders that sit at the water’s edge at night, but they were too quick for me. I tried catching some because I am told that you can eat them too, but that will have to wait until another day.

My new life

Sorry that I haven't been able to keep in contact with many of you very well. The bush is not making that a very easy task, but I am getting in the habit of letter writing. I sent letters to everyone who has given me their address (some may be on the way still), but if I don't have yours, and you would like to hear from me, let me know. Eventually it will get to me when I get back to a computer that has a working internet. I am unable to upload photos onto my site here, but I will work on that, because I know pictures are always better than words, but I'll do my best to tell you a little bit of what has been going on.
Most days are spent around my house and village. I have been working on making things like chairs and shelves for my house, and doing other normal chores like yardwork and washing clothes. Yardwork tools consist of only a machete, which is your best friend in the bush, and it should go everywhere with you. Washing my clothes entails scrambling down a sketchy trail to a stream and scrubbing my clothes on a rock. The other day I found a smooth and clean rock for doing laundry and though to myself, wow, this sure does make my life easy. Then I realized how much work it is compared to throwing everything into some magical maching in your house and pushing a button, but I think my way is more rewarding. Bathing is also done in the stream, which makes it really easy to wash your clothes and yourself at the same time. I've found that I only need one or two shirts and one pair of shorts. The idea of actually having different outfits is pretty crazy to my friends on Tanna. Besides doing chores, I also spend time storian with my family, climbing around the bush, or playing with animals. The village is like a farm pretty much. Dogs, cats, pigs, goats, and chickens are everywhere.
People in the area are getting more used to seeing me, although I still have close to celebrity status. Atleast kids no longer run and cry when they see me. Some are still a little afraid of my camera, although I don't know why. Most are fascinated when I take a picture at night using a flash. It normally causes people to either roll on the ground in laughter or break into applause. I still feel awkward at big gatherings. It's hard not to notice hundreds of people staring at you or kids poking you to see what white skin feels like.
The other day an older woman died in a neighboring village. As custom dictates, my family and I walked to the village to gather with others. It was an interesting cultural experience. I went to the nakamal (meeting area) with my papa and brother. Only men are allowed there, women go to the houses to cook. There were multiple fires burning, one for each of the neighboring villages, and men from the villages were gathered around their respective fire. One man would stand up to talk, offering an explanation of why the woman died. Then another man would talk, often repeating the same thing again. Most believe that she ran out of blood, but although I disagree, I stayed quiet. Men repeated themselves for the next 7 or 8 hours. Seeing as it wasn't the funnest thing, I left to find some food. I was presented part of a pig heart that was roasted in a bamboo shoot. Out of curtesy an curiousity I ate most of it. The rest I threw on the ground as fellow pigs at their old friend. Sort of morbid.
Most of the food is pretty good though, although it is taking some getting used to. I eat lots of yams pretty much, mixed in with all kinds of different fruits and vegetables. Sometimes for dinner I will have some kind of meat. Sometimes it's nice when it's dark while I'm eating dinner because I can't see how gross the food looks, but other times, I would really like to see what I was eating before I stick an unexpected organ into my mouth. The other day I came home after walking around in the bush and saw my brother had caught and killed a cat. I didn't think much of it and then me and my brothers left to climb a near by hill. We came back ready to eat dinner. I was handed my plate and ready to take my first bite when they told me that I would be enjoying yam with cat. I really wish they hadn't told me, I was hungry. I shoved some down, trying to atleast find meat to eat. The cat was just cut up and put into a pot, organs, bones, and all. I ate what I could, then threw the rest down by my side, where my cat finished the leftovers. Morbid once again. The next day I felt slightly sick. My sister says I was sick because I walked around too much, but I'm blaming it on the dead cat I ate that sat outside in the sun for hours.
Well, I don't have time for all of my stories, but what I like about Tanna is you never know when to expect them. Typically the days where nothing is happening is the most interesting, you just never know what you're going to get. Sometimes a small boy shoots a bird with his sling shot and then proceeds to use its body as a soccer ball, or perhaps the woman next to you is picking bugs out of her kids hair and sticking them in her mouth. Numerous earthquakes shake up the down time too, or a rumbling volcanoe from across the island fills the quiet spots.
Ok, well I need to go hitch a truck back to my village now, it's getting late and I don't feel like making the 8 hour walk. I'll try to get back on here and give you an update and photos as soon as possible.

Beerwah, Australia. Not too many people have heard of the town, but it was a place I just had to visit. Beerwah is the home of Steve Erwin, the Crocodile Hunter, and of the zoo that he has drawn so many people to. As many of you know, he was my role model, and I believe that everyone could learn a few things from him. His passion was inspiring, and his enthusiasm couldn't be matched. Now I know not all of you are inspired to go and catch things that would like nothing more than to kill you, as boring as that sounds, but the way he lived his life can be applied to anything that you do. Too bad there wasn't more people around like him. Anyways, they day was bittersweet. Seeing the deadliest snakes in the world along with huge saltwater crocodiles was a humbling experience. It was also amazing to see the result from what one person can do. The amount of people who care about wildlife because of him is astounding, and that is something I need to remember when I am out in the Vanuatu bush. One person can make a difference. So I'm headed back to Vanuatu tomorrow, back to the real world, which is completely opposite of the real world in your head. I've been medically cleared by the Peace Corps, they've found nothing wrong with me, but thank you everyone for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers. I'll do my best to keep posts and pictures coming in Tanna, but that will not be a very easy thing to do. It's a shame though, because I think things will start to get very interesting there.

Aussie

I'm just hanging out in Australia for the time being right now. As some of you know, I have been medivacced out of Vanuatu. I had a little medical incident and they have no such thing as good hospitals there. No worries though, it's nothing serious, and I should be returning to bush life shortly. In the mean time, I'm just trying to enjoy my modern lifestlye here in Brisbane. When I first got here it was a little overwhelming though. Seeing so many white people was a little scary, not to mention all the cars flying around and big buildings. But now I am really enjoying things like talking English to everyone (even though some Aussies don't sound like they are talking back in English), eating McDonald's and pizza, using an internet that works well, sleeping in a nice bed, drinking milk, eating chocolate icecream, and being CLEAN! Hot showers just can't be beat. I've also gotten to wear blue jeans and a sweater. Being in cooler weather feels great. I know I shouldn't get used to all of these nice luxuries though. I've only been without them for 3 months or so, and I've got 24 months left without them.

My new home

Last week, my time at Emua was winding down, and I still hadn't found a snake. The villagers told me that they really didn't have too many of them. Well, I can't say that I hadn't found a snake. I've swam with and held atleast 4 or 5 sea snakes, which are striped black and white, and a bite will kill you before you can get help. But once again Mom, don't worry, they're nice. Anyways, I told the villagers I wanted to find a snake in the bush because I knew South Pacific boas lived in the area. I took off after dark one night into the bush, and a short time later, came back with a snake in one hand, a frog in the other, and leaves in my hair from climbing the trees to get them. It was a proud moment, and I'm sure those who know me can easily picture myself in that situation. So I came back to the village to see that everyone was terrified of the snake. These people grow up with lizards, rats, and everthing else living in their houses, yet somehow they still are afraid of snakes. It must be a universal thing. Needless to say though, they couldn't believe that some white boy walked into the bush at night, didn't get lost, and actually was holding a snake. It made for a good environmental education lesson though. A few kids mustered the courage to touch it, although my papa made sure to keep his distance. Made my day.
But now, my time at Emua is finished. Last thursday (21st), I swore in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. The ceremony was really nice, I even showered and washed my hair for it, making it the first time in 6 weeks that my hair had felt the wonderfulness of soap. Plenty toktoks were given, and it was followed by a kava ceremony, and a string band. The music went until 6 in the morning, until it was time for us to gather our bags together and return to Vila. I was sad to leave, it was pretty close to paradise there (besides the rats, boils, flies in your wounds, and the hair that is still on the pig you're eating, but that's to be expected anywhere in Vanuatu). Now I'm spending a week in Vila, and if all goes as planned, I will be getting down to Tanna just before the 4th of July. Things rarely go as planned though. Suppose I make it down there by the 4th though, I will be going to the volcanoe there on the the island at night, giving me the best fireworks I could ask for. If not, I think I will have to find some extremely cheap and poorly made imitation sparklers made in China.
Ok, I will do my best to contact as many people I can this week while I'm in the city. Thanks for the emails and letters, and to those of you who are slacking, pick it up, I might go crazy in Tanna without them.

Back to training

The past few weeks have been pretty uneventful. After going to visit my home in Tanna I came back to 3 more weeks of class everyday. I spent all of last week learning Reef Check, a world wide coral reef monitoring program. Even though I'm not going to be living on the coast I might be helping other people out with Reef Check. We spent everyday out on the reef. I can't complain, it makes a pretty nice classroom. We learned all about reef health, fish and other animals of the reef. I was able to see schools of eagle rays, sea turtles, and I'm finally getting to see some sharks (don't worry mom the nice kind). The other night we went out on the reef at night to catch sea turtles as part of a sea turtle monitoring program. We got two green sea turtles and two hawksbill turtles, which we tagged and released. I also got to see my first shark at night, which was really cool, and I also saw a lot of flourescent jelly fish and other little glowing animals. I'm not going to lie though, it was a little eerie swimming over open ocean when all you could see is the narrow band of light ahead of you from the underwater light. So yeah, that's all I've been doing for the last week in class. Now I'm starting to work on things like setting up a bank account, and figuring out how to get my stuff sent out to the Tanna bush. Not an easy task. Besides that I do have an interesting story to share that proves how strange Vanuatu is. Last week, 49 prisoners escaped from the Vila prison. First of all, 49 prisoners escaping at once is somewhat odd. Then they all went out, drank kava, and promptly returned to the prison afterwards to turn themselves back in. Men here really like their kava. In Tanna the "prison" has a program where the good prisoners take the bad ones out for kava each night as long as they promise to come back. You can't make this kind of stuff up.

Wokabaot (Walkabout)

So last week was walkabout week, a week where we all went and visited our sites that we will be stationed at. I went to my site in Tanna, close to a village called Green Hill. My village has a whole 10 people living in it, so I'm thinking I will need to branch out to meet some people from the neighboring villages. The closest village to me is only a half hour walk if you hike through the bush. The hiking is pretty sketchy, but the men hop through the jungle and mountains like you and me walk down the sidewalk. The first picture above is a view from the stream that I take my showers in. I must say that it's the best view you could have while showering. I have to hike down a steep trail, and at the bottom there is a completely vertical rock face that has holes chiseled into it for your feet so you can scale down it. I was only in Tanna for 3 days and I was already naked in the bush, some people saw that coming. My house is pretty large for village standards. It sits a couple of feet off the ground. I have a front room for cooking, and study room, and a bedroom. Everything is made from local materials. The walls are made from bamboo, my roof from thatched leafs, tables from more wood, and my "carpet" is made from woven pandanus leaf mats. Things aren't quite as primitive as I was expecting, people wear clothes and stuff, but some stuff is pretty out there. My papa walks around with a bow and arrow he made to shoot fruit bats. I hear they taste good, and soon enough I'm sure I'll try one. My papa is very nice to the cats and dogs, which is strange because most people are cruel to them. But then I figured out he's nice to them and feeds them just so he can easily catch them and eat them in the future. I'm not sure how I feel about eating dogs. I think if I do eat one, it will be because they won't tell me what I'm eating until after I finish. They did that the other day when I was eating shark, but I must say that was very good. The area I live in is right next to two big hills or mountains covered in jungle. I'm supposed to help set the area up as a conservation area. I will get to hike the bush and map the place using GPS, making me the first person to ever map the area which is pretty cool. There also hasn't been a whole lot of research done on the plants and animals of the area. I will be working with a department called the Environmental Unit, and they sort of want me to explore and see what I can find and observe in the forest. My job involves more than that too, like traveling to other places in Tanna to help other villages establish conservation areas. One of the villages is right next to the volcano, so I hopefully I will get plenty of free trips to it. Ok so that's my very very breif over view of my site in Tanna. Now I head back to the training village in North Efate for a little more than 3 weeks of training. After that is finished, I will be heading back to Tanna for my 2 years.

Mother's Day

Well, I can honestly say I had the strangest Mother's Day last Sunday. It all started normal, I woke up, ate breakfast, and got ready for church that morning. I walked over to a near by house to see a group of 25 or so people sitting around with tea mugs in hand. I sat down next to Seth, another volunteer, and asked him what was going on. He wasn't quite sure, but from what he understood, everyone was going to drink a potion to protect themselves against black magic. It sounded pretty interesting to me, so I stuck around for it. The families drinking the potion believed that black magic had been put on a house that they were trying to build, because it's just been a pile of bricks for over 4 years. I just think that it's not getting built though because everyone is on island time. And island time is slow. Brandon would not only be on time to everthing here, he might even be early. And for those who know Brandon, know how slow he is. Ok, so a man called a clever came with this potion. I couldn't understand most of the things he was saying, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to drink the stuff anyways, since black magic only affects you if you believe in it. The clever gave the potion to Seth and me first, so we started drinking. It tasted awful, so I started drinking it faster to get rid of it. About half way through though, Seth's mama pointed out a bucket we go to incase we have to throw up. Seth turned to me and said, "So do you think this stuff is supposed to make you throw up?". I told him, "I guess that's what they mean when they say the potion will get rid of all of the bad stuff inside you, but it's too late now, so just keep drinking." And so we did. A few minutes later I had finished my drink and told my papa that I was heading to church and that I would meet him there. After sitting in church for a few minutes though, I wasn't feeling too good. I also realized that no one else in my family had shown up. So before I threw up my potion and breakfast in church, I decided to walk the few minutes back home. I returned to see my cousin puking everywhere, but apparently I had just missed all of the real action. Seth told me that he was first to puke, while all of the others laughed at him for it. He told them to just wait for their turn, and within minutes, 20 or so people were running for a bucket to go throw up in. My mama fell to the ground and was crawling on her knees while puking. Another mama felt she was ok, so she went to go cook. While holding a pot in her hands, she would turn her head periodically to vomit too though. So yeah, I decided to go and lay down after all of this action. I slept for a couple of hours, and woke up feeling absolutely terrible still. I had to go and cook lunch though even though I was sick. We were making spaghetti dinner for our mamas, a way to show them appreciation for mother's day. And for a bit of cultural exchange, to give them a taste of the food we eat. So even though I was sick I shoved it all down because it was delicious. Our mamas and papas couldn't get over this amazing thing called garlic bread. I think we went through 6 loafs. So after lunch I slept some more, still trying to get over the potion from the morning. I woke up and storiadan with my papa for a while about the morning's events and black magic. He talked to me about some of the things the clever had found in our house that was responsible for the black magic, things that another man had put there as some kind of curse. At midnight the clever was going to take the objects (some charcoal sticks, stones, a snake tail) and throw them in the saltwater to destroy their powers. Apparently the saltwater boils when he throws the objects in. My papa shared some other things like how that day the clever helped another man with stolen property. He went to the man and described two people who had stolen some of his things. The people in our village recognized the two men by the physical descriptions he gave. Some time later this week, they are going to bring the police to arrest the men. I hope the clever doesn't pin any crimes on me. Ok so I'm running out of time, I don't have time to share everything else. Some of it has to do with more black magic mind stories, and some with all of us male peace corps volunteers dressing up in island dresses and giving a skit to our mamas. All in all though, it was a very unexpected and interesting mother's day. I find that it's hard to describe how strange this day was in words, or even describe how strange Vanuatu is for that matter though. But it's going good and I can only hope that I continue to have these odd unexpected experiences. Tomorrow I head off to Tanna, and from what I've heard, I'm sure I will have more of those days there.

Tanna man

Just last week I was told that my site for the next 2 years will be in the village of Green Hill on the island of Tanna. I will be working at a forest conservation, not on coral reefs like I expected. I'm going to push to try and get to work on a reef as a secondary project though, but I will have to wait and see. Tanna itself will be a great place to stay. It's farther south than where I am now, so that means the weather should be a little cooler. Tanna is also known for its strong kastom (traditional culture) and for having the world's most accessible volacano. You can climb up to the rim and look down at the lava. The people in Tanna are fond of eating cats and dogs, and apparently they don't tell you that you are eating your favorite local dog until it's too late. But all in all, I think it should make for an interesting experience. Well that's all, I only had a few minutes to be by a computer. For those of you who sent me emails to my hotmail address, please start sending them to volunteer@vu.peacecorps.gov with my name on the subject line. I never really get a chance to check my email so send it to that address instead, and peace corps will print it out and send it to me.

Emua

Village life is good. I'm on the northern coast of Efate in a vilage called Emua. I live about 30 seconds from the ocean with a nice view of a few surrounding islands, and the shepperd islands jutting out from the ocean in the distance. My mama and papa are very nice. I think my mama thinks that I'm too skinny because she makes a ton of food. My papa is a fisherman and a gardner. I have the 3 cutest kids on the islands as sisters. Beverley is 5, Carolyn is 7, and Susan is 9. They are quite the handful. They mainly just look at me and giggle but also like to poke me and play with my strange hair. The picture above is of my sister, Beverley. She likes to run around with knives and she thinks that broken glass is a toy. But thats ok, kids are tough here. Everyone is very friendly but also curious. Little tasks like washing clothes and dishes, or cutting open coconuts tends to attract the attention and judgement of 20 people atleast. I don't mind though. I am slowly learning one of their languages, Bislama. They correct me when I mess up and tell me how to say certain things. It is a slow learning process but going well. I don't really have time to talk about much else, but I will update whenever I can.

Port Vila

Not a whole lot has been happening over here in Vanuatu. I'm staying at the capital right now, Port Vila, in a hotel with all of the other volunteers from my group. The city is very modern compared with the rest of the country, so I am still enjoying the luxuries of having electricity and being able to take a shower. Vanuatu itself is a beautiful place. The picture above is one I took of the bay that is less than a minute walk from our hotel.
The people here are very friendy and everyone says hello to eachother. The natives are especially curious about us. No matter where I go, I tend to get a lot of stares, especially down at the local market where I might be the only person who is not a Ni-Vanuatu out of a couple of hundred of people. Besides walking around and just checking the town out, I've had the chance to snorkel in some of the local coral reefs. I saw countless bright colored fish, but no sharks yet. I don't know if you want to call that good or bad. People in our group have also been going to Nakamals. Nakamals are a local meeting place typically reserved for cheifs when they meet, but they are also a place where people get together to drink kava. It is the social thing that everyone does around here, and it is gross. You drink a bowl full of something that looks like muddy water, but taste much worse. It taste like dirty water with a cucumber and pepper flavor. It gives everyone something to do at night where they can meet up and just sit around and talk though.
The weather here has been pretty nice, a little warmer and humid that I would like it to be. It's about 85 everyday and might cool down to 78 or so by night. The first night we were here all of the locals were complaining about how cold they were because it dropped down to the low/mid 70s. The humidity should let up over the next few months though as Vanuatu is entering it's dry season.
I'm sure I could share a lot more but I just don't have the time. Starting Sunday, we will be moving out to a rural village to live with our host families. Once we get out there I think the culture shock will really hit and hopefully I will have something more exciting to tell you all, but this will have to do for now. For all of those you I haven't had a chance to email or write to yet I'm sorry. During the next few months of training I will be very busy everyday, but after that is over I will do my best to contact as many of you as possible.

Packing/Panicking

Packing is one of those things that I always put off until the very last minute, typically cramming that last thing into my bag right before I head off. In this case though, I decided that might not be the best of ideas. You know that feeling you have when you think you forgot to pack something and that you are going to be doomed without it? Well, try packing for over two years and then imagine that feeling of forgetting something. That is why in this case, I decided not to pack at the very last moment. Instead, I am taking the extra cautious route of packing a whole day before I even leave. My mom should be proud. Atleast packing for an island in the Pacific isn't quite as bad as it would be for packing for other places. Pants, longsleeves, coats....don't really need them. All you really need are some shorts, t-shirts, a camera, and some snorkel gear. Well maybe a little more than that, or a lot. How am I going to fit all of this into a couple of backpacks?!

Vanuatu

So this is it, a map of where I will be spending the next few years of my life. As you can see, the country is composed of some 83 specks in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.