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.