This should be longer, but I'm going to make it very prompt because I'm trying to hitch a ride with some governments folks back up to my village this afternoon (yay!!). Savusavu town was okay, all in all, after the storm went through. We, PCVs here in Savusavu, gave a collective, "That was it??" after the storm passed. We were expecting more, but I guess it's good that it wasn't any worse. Which is not at all to minimize the damage that Tomas did cause to some villages and islands. There was a lot of damage and flooding, and I'm anxious to see my village.
I thank everyone for your prayers, thoughts, wishes, e-mails, etc etc. It's always nice to hear from people, even when it's just to offer support during natural disasters!!
Here's a little 'nother hint into my life here, one that I'm getting really sad to leave the closer it gets (and being stuck away from the village for almost a week): you know those people that say they never ever kill anything? Not a single living thing? People that say that have obviously never had lice. If you have an outbreak of head lice, you want to kill those little bloodsuckers as soon as possible. They are awful. You want to smash their little (or big) bodies in two. And watch your blood spurt out of their bodies. It's gross, yes, but welcome to the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer in a village! This is by far the worst outbreak I've had yet. Three weeks now! (that's a conservative estimate) They're driving me nuts nuts nutso.
Until later...
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
See that cluster of islands at the bottom? That's Fiji. This was yesterday. Now, the storm is directly over us.
Who says I don't have a sense of humor?? I find this picture utterly hilarious, and the fact that I'm showing it to the world is a big step forward in my self-development. Look at the way I'm sitting!! I didn't see it until the next day, when we were drinking grog, and I just laughed and laughed and laughed and brother Pita told me I looked like I was a dog, the way I'm sitting. But to explain... this is how I spend my days: working on the church. Sometimes there isn't much for me to do during the day so I hang out with my brothers, my 'boys.' They're building the church (Opening Day: 6 May, 2010!!! So close!!!) and I usually help them. I don't have much to do and this feels like something very tangible I can do. I'm learning a lot and we have great conversations, especially about really touchy subjects and my work in the village. These guys are my confidants (Pita, Tui, Nemani, Akilio) and my friends. I'm already starting to miss them. Sometimes I end up being the default baby-sitter. Manoa, another of the workers, has a son whose mother works in town during the week and he brings Ropate along. Nem's son also comes to visit. I end up entertaining the kids, helping them with tea, watching over them when they get into paint and nails, and running around making a fool of myself with these beautiful little boys. So much fun! See a picture of Ropate down below.
An Open Letter to Tropical Cyclone Tomas:
Dearest Tomas,
Please be kind to us. You're on your way over, that much is for sure, but your arrival date is a little unclear. You're coming at 11 km/hr, but your offspring, wind, will be moving up to 213 km/hr (currently, FYI, your winds are at 120 km/hr: you better watch your speed, Casey Jones). You made me leave my village, which I "resisted" (apparently, because I asked if I could stay in the village in the health center, which is what I'm hearing my boss very professionally told other Volunteers), to ride in an unsafe vehicle to head directly into bad weather only to find the town bustling with activity and the ATMs out of money and one that is tricky and costs a lot of money because it's not my bank's ATM. So I was left hungry (had a very rushed tea at 7:30 and we didn't get to town until almost 1) and penniless and in town against my will not really getting a very good idea of your visit being as how I came from the village and don't understand Fijian, or how cyclones work, very well. So you see, we did not get off to a very good start. I wasn't afraid of you, oh no, not until I got to town and until my superiors at the office put panic into me. Normally, when I panic, I like someone with strength to talk me through my issues (think: "Papa, it's 3 am and I'm lost and have no money somewhere in Rome." Or, "Mom? Papa? I'm in Amersterdam and I have no money, sorry to wake you up at 5 am." Or most recently relying on my brother Tui to fix my house - the guy is seriously the calmest person I know- during the non-tsunami tsunami, for which I received a 3 AM wake up call telling me there was a tsunami warning for the next day and turns out...nothing happened. Or anytime I go to Josie, saying, "Josie, I need help.") and here, in town, I don't have that. I'm staying at a house where the homeowners are not here and I still haven't received much information about what to do except to "stand fast" and "stock up." And...? Now I'm waiting for you to come, and I hear maybe on Monday? You're a category 4; that's pretty strong.
I've eaten and showered and stocked up. I got money. I've calmed down some, but I still freak out when I think that I'm going to be here for anywhere from 4-7 days and our power is going to go out (eventually) and maybe even the water (or just get undrinkably dirty). But I'm okay. And I guess we have to reschedule our workshops that have been organized for Tuesday and Wednesday with three different villages/women's groups. Ahh!! I have so little time left in the village and now I'm stuck here. I wanted to spend a week in the village and would have done so, if not for this.
But I'm here. And I'm okay. And you're somewhere on your way. Here's a list of our rations:
-about 100 or so liters of water
-four bottles of wine
-a block of cheese
-mango licorice, oreos, popcorn
-avocadoes, eggplant, onions, bananas, garlic, pineapple, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers
-pasta
-beans, dried and canned
-eggs
-canned corn, tomatoes, tomato paste
(pictures of our food rations coming later!)
-4 boxes of tuna (compliments of PC for our emergency rations.)
-toilet paper, mosquito coils, matches, kerosene, lantern
-Movies, playing cards, batteries, books, crossword puzzle books, journal
...and you get the picture.
So, Tomas, in closing: I'm waiting for you. We're charging everything. I've heard hurricanes are fun. I could use some fun.
Some things to note:
I have a long list of people to write letters to: Morgan, Mrs. Rowley, and Michele are some of them.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
some reflections
I'm a certified open water diver!!! Whoo hoo! So exciting! Getting scuba certified is something I never, ever in my wildest dreams imagined doing. But I did it! Even when I was a little seasick and nauseaus and dizzy, I still did it. And it was incredible. Swimming in the ocean amid corals and fishes of all shapes, sizes and colors, seeing sting rays and sharks up close, and being that far below water is so cool and so beautiful. I hope I use this skill a lot (even though it is an expensive hobby), especially because my time is so short here in Fiji and money limited. But who knows? If not, I'll be certified forever and I'll always be able to tell the story of getting scuba certified. It's scary, that's for sure. And my ears hurt. And now I have an ear infection! But, it was totally worth it.
That's about the only cool thing that's happened in a while. On the work end, we finally got the fish pond dug- yay!!! It only took a year! I'll be curious to see what happened while I was away on some much needed leave time. And, the women got their co-op store back! That's been exciting, and a battle. It hasn't been easy but for the most part, people are really excited and happy about it. It's great training and working with the women. They just have to keep it up! They'll show those stodgy old men that women aren't lazy, they are smart and just as educated, and they do have business sense! The goal of the store is to earn money for more store improvements and to put towards a kitchen/bakery for the community hall.
Whew! While I felt like this wasn't enough, like I haven't been doing enough in the village, I learned that this is quite a lot. I suppose it is. We do a lot of other, smaller things that I think are just as valid and mean a lot, too. Does this mean Peace Corps should continue work in my village? That will be decided soon, but I can't say for sure. It's tricky- do you want the village to rely on outside organizations like PC or be independent after having two PCVs in the village?
I also realized so much else about my site. 1. I love Vanua Levu. It's so beautiful up here!!! Everything is so lush (outside of the Labasa side) and green and healthy. There is a diversity of plants. The ocean provides an astounding view as you're driving. It's so wonderful up here, compared to northern Viti Levu (sorry!). 2. The life is better, in my opinion, also. It's so laid back and people are so helpful and fun and work hard. And very self-sufficient. My village is so lucky to be so educated and motivated. At times it seems like they're not, but compared to other villages... we're pretty awesome. 3. As a PCV, you get out of this experience what you put in. i feel like that's a lame statement, but I think it's very true. If you spend a lot of time in your house by yourself, or in town with other PCVs, that's the experience you'll have. Sure, you'll take away big issues and changes and attitude adjustments, but you're not in America and you can't pretend that you are or live like you are. I'm excited to go home, but I do so with a very heavy heart. I really love my village and the people in it. We have had some hard times, but we've had a lot of good. I've had my share of tears and troubles and heartaches but that happens anywhere you are. I love that I spend so much time outside of my house. Sometimes I'm so busy I haven't touched a book all week. And while it might not look like a lot of tangible 'work' has been accomplished, my garden, my yaqona plantation, fishing, cooking, gathering food, drinking grog, singing with the choir, going to church, helping prepare for big gatherings, going to other villages, and being a part of the community has left me little time to sit around wishing I was someplace else. This only lasts for so long. After this, I'll have to go back to America with a job that probably won't pay me much. I'll be so dependent on money and I wont' have the luxury of 'kere kere'ing from my neighbors, or going over to someone's house in the middle of the day and sitting around talking, or learning from the people around me like I have here. I've been forced out of my comfort zone and maybe I have just spoken into an empty hole a lot of the time but I know that some people have heard me. I will have left something behind, tangibly, emotionally, environmentally, mentally. It goes both ways.
Lecture over.
taylar, out.
That's about the only cool thing that's happened in a while. On the work end, we finally got the fish pond dug- yay!!! It only took a year! I'll be curious to see what happened while I was away on some much needed leave time. And, the women got their co-op store back! That's been exciting, and a battle. It hasn't been easy but for the most part, people are really excited and happy about it. It's great training and working with the women. They just have to keep it up! They'll show those stodgy old men that women aren't lazy, they are smart and just as educated, and they do have business sense! The goal of the store is to earn money for more store improvements and to put towards a kitchen/bakery for the community hall.
Whew! While I felt like this wasn't enough, like I haven't been doing enough in the village, I learned that this is quite a lot. I suppose it is. We do a lot of other, smaller things that I think are just as valid and mean a lot, too. Does this mean Peace Corps should continue work in my village? That will be decided soon, but I can't say for sure. It's tricky- do you want the village to rely on outside organizations like PC or be independent after having two PCVs in the village?
I also realized so much else about my site. 1. I love Vanua Levu. It's so beautiful up here!!! Everything is so lush (outside of the Labasa side) and green and healthy. There is a diversity of plants. The ocean provides an astounding view as you're driving. It's so wonderful up here, compared to northern Viti Levu (sorry!). 2. The life is better, in my opinion, also. It's so laid back and people are so helpful and fun and work hard. And very self-sufficient. My village is so lucky to be so educated and motivated. At times it seems like they're not, but compared to other villages... we're pretty awesome. 3. As a PCV, you get out of this experience what you put in. i feel like that's a lame statement, but I think it's very true. If you spend a lot of time in your house by yourself, or in town with other PCVs, that's the experience you'll have. Sure, you'll take away big issues and changes and attitude adjustments, but you're not in America and you can't pretend that you are or live like you are. I'm excited to go home, but I do so with a very heavy heart. I really love my village and the people in it. We have had some hard times, but we've had a lot of good. I've had my share of tears and troubles and heartaches but that happens anywhere you are. I love that I spend so much time outside of my house. Sometimes I'm so busy I haven't touched a book all week. And while it might not look like a lot of tangible 'work' has been accomplished, my garden, my yaqona plantation, fishing, cooking, gathering food, drinking grog, singing with the choir, going to church, helping prepare for big gatherings, going to other villages, and being a part of the community has left me little time to sit around wishing I was someplace else. This only lasts for so long. After this, I'll have to go back to America with a job that probably won't pay me much. I'll be so dependent on money and I wont' have the luxury of 'kere kere'ing from my neighbors, or going over to someone's house in the middle of the day and sitting around talking, or learning from the people around me like I have here. I've been forced out of my comfort zone and maybe I have just spoken into an empty hole a lot of the time but I know that some people have heard me. I will have left something behind, tangibly, emotionally, environmentally, mentally. It goes both ways.
Lecture over.
taylar, out.
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