Jamie's Visit

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finally a blog. =) it's officially summer for this little gorilla. i'm hanging at my new house in pitt and will be settled in the next few weeks. i plan to work and take a geography class and relax. getting ready to head to frontenac to run the trails. take care - b

23 March 2010

My good friend from college, Jamie, came to play tourist and visit Justin and I in this past week. We now have been blessed with two rounds of visitors during our Peace Corps service and are grateful, especially given how far away from our homeland we are. Having visitors puts a new perspective on our life here; what we no longer regard as different or foreign (removing our shoes before entering any building, including stores and churches), what annoyances we endure without thinking about it (washing dishes, laundry, and showering with an outside water source), and what amenities we have come to take for granted (oodles of free fresh fruit). Jamie’s was an especially interesting perspective to have. She has traveled and lived in similar circumstances as we are now, only in a different country. Comparing what intrigued her with what has caught the attention of our previous round of guests was entertaining.

Being a veteran traveler, Jamie wasn’t too worried about planning things out perfectly for her Vanuatu trip. Given how tough we are to contact, we communicated with her via my family during our weekly phone calls. About a month before, we heard her plane schedule and that was that. No need to plan anything else yet, after all, who knows what could happen.

To spice things up a bit, we decided not to meet Jamie at the airport as planned. Just kidding. Actually, she chose to visit us during the midst of hurricane season. On the day of her arrival, Peace Corps had activated the initial stage of our emergency action plan and asked us not to leave our sites. Luckily, there is a super patient and willing volunteer on Ambae whose site is close to the airport. She took on the role of hostess for Jamie’s first few hours in the country; even introducing her to the wonderful world of cold banana laplap. For this Jamie will be forever in her debt.

The next morning, I braved the ocean to pick up Jamie on Ambae. As I was getting ready to get on the boat, our school’s acting principal asked to come along. Since the school is short on funds, teachers, students, fuel for the generator, textbooks, and about everything else, a free trip to the province’s education office would be a huge, and necessary, help to the school. Knowing this would extend our stay on Ambae well into the afternoon, I agreed. At least Jamie and I could “story” in person while we waited for the acting principal to conclude her errands.

And story we did. We had a lot of catching up to do, having been apart for nearly two years. I needed to prep Jamie for the school situation, which had been in the newspapers consistently for about a week by that time; as well as our toilet situation. Days of endless rain preceding the hurricane warning had left a pool of standing water in the bottom of our toilet. Jamie needed to be in the loop on the strategic maneuvers necessary to avoid a nasty splash while using the toilet. Jamie used the time to fill me in on friends, weddings, and babies that I had missed being away. Needless to say we had no problem chattering the day away.

That afternoon, we finally loaded up in the boat and headed for Maewo. Jamie took the boat ride like a champ. The breaking waves, constant splashes of salt water and imminent rain clouds didn’t faze her. By dinner time, we were soaked but on the shores of Maewo. And Justin had dinner prepped and ready to cook as soon as we got back. Curried taro and rice probably topped her meal the previous evening.

The next day is hard to fully explain. I can only content myself with the thought that Jamie was there to live it and know that I am not exaggerating in this following bit. We decided a trip to Big Water, the humongous water fall north of us, would be a good way to spend the day. With this mission in mind, we set off to procure a truck and a driver who could take us there. Now, the most successful strategy that I have found while living on an island with limited resources, like trucks and drivers, is to tell every single person that I meet what I am trying to do and let them give me their thoughts on the plan. So far, it has served me well. This day was no exception.

The first person we ran into while walking about was my host dad. He confirmed that the driver of the blue truck we were pursuing was available and just down the road. In fact, he let us know that this truck, along with every other truck on the island, was going to the airport. This would be to our advantage since it would cut the cost of transport. Excited by this little bargain, we walked on. Then we met two men fixing fence on the road and, loyal to my strategy, I repeated our mission. The two men broke the bad news that we had just missed the truck on its’ way to the airport. Bummer. Since we were half way to the village, I suggested we continue to take a little tour. Further on the road, we met a woman carrying a baby and an umbrella. Tuesday is not only plane day but also baby weigh in day at the health center. I again repeated what our intended mission had been, intending to bemoan missing the truck with her. She confirmed what the two men had said: we had just missed the truck.

In the hub of the village, we peeked in the church and looked at the bank, post office, and public phone. Everyone sitting around in the churchyard seemed to concur that we had indeed missed the blue truck. One exceptionally well informed soul even gave us a list of passengers in the blue truck. Moving on down the road, we set ourselves a new goal of finding a store that was open so Jamie could look inside. The third one we came to was open for business. Once inside, I bought Jamie some looking time by chatting with the store keeper, basically telling her of our failure to catch the blue truck. She proved to be just the person we needed to talk to. One of the passengers was just next door, she told us, and the blue truck was going to make a second trip to come pick him up.

Well, well, well. We were back to our original plan. After urging the store keeper to tell the truck to wait for us, we scadoodled back towards my house. Still remembering my strategy, I repeated to the two men, who were still fixing fence along the road, that the blue truck would be coming back by for a second trip to the airport and we wanted to get on too. Like leaving a trail of bread crumbs, you never know who will forget to pass the message or get distracted doing something else, so its’ always best to just tell everyone. The locals refer to this style of information dissemination as “coconut wireless.” Jamie was amused, I’m sure.

Half an hour later, we were sunscreened up and waiting by the side of the road. We caught the blue truck before it had picked up its’ passenger. I told the driver of our intentions and that we’d wait for him to pick up the passenger and jump in on the way back by. So, we settled back in the shade to do what I have become quite used to doing in this country: wait. Luckily, waiting is a pleasure when in good company. Another half hour later, we were surprised to see the red truck its driver stop in front of us. Guess the blue truck decided to take a break and somehow this red truck was now on the job. But as long as it was going towards the waterfall, we didn’t care what color the truck was. So, the three of us piled into the back of the red truck for the hour ride up to Big Water.

We got out in the village of Naone to ask for a guide to the waterfalls. Three young women volunteered to escort us there. As we began the short walk from the village to the base of Big Water, they were chattering excitedly about a crocodile that the men of the village had found on the east coast. The men were hunting for namari, large fresh water eels, in the water taro gardens there. One of the men thought he had found a big eel when in fact he pulled up a crocodile by the tail. There are crocodiles in the Banks Islands, north of Maewo, and this one must have ventured down from there. In fact a similar incident happened about eight years ago and the legendary Steve Irwin came by plane to collect the wandering reptile. This more recent vagabond didn’t have such a forgiving fate. The villagers ate him.

Big Water never ceases to impress me. The sheer energy and power of water is imminent and awesome, an effect that doesn’t diminish even with repeated visits. Because it had been raining so heavily, the base of the falls was brown from the churned up mud. Crossing the small pools of strongly rushing water to get a closer look, we went hand in hand with our female guides. With the muddy water, it was hard to see where we were putting our feet. I baffled at how one woman balanced her toddler on one hip and me with the other delicate hand, and handled herself perfectly.

We took time to scamper up the main fall and look out to the ocean. Even with the muddy base, the white rushing water kept us entranced for awhile. We cooled off in the water and took a few photos. Since we couldn’t hear if the plane came over the roar of rushing water, we didn’t linger too long with Maewo’s hydraulic wonder, wanting to be near the road when the red truck came back by.

Back on the road, our guides confirmed that the plane had not come yet. This provided them with the opportunity to show off the crocodile, whose body was drying out in a copra oven. On down the road we trekked, the young women talking excitedly. They wanted to know what the difference was between an alligator and a crocodile and if we could confirm precisely which one this was. I did my best to convince them that Kansas doesn’t have crocodiles or alligators, but they seemed to think that we would know once we saw it.

So we climbed the small ladder to the top of the copra oven to view the crocodile (alligator?) skin. I was shocked at how big it was. Since the man who caught it had at first confused it with an eel, I was thinking that this thing must be a couple feet long at most. But, the women informed me while I was squealing about how big it was, this guy was 2 meters 20 centimeters long! The mouth of it was propped open with a stick to reveal its strong teeth. To appease the masses that we were sufficiently interested in this find, I took a few pictures and scrambled back down the ladder. Then, we settled back on the road to wait for our red truck.

The next day we decided it was time to initiate Jamie into the realm of Maewo’s stone ground kava. Jamie and I walked to the garden with my host dad while he pulled a “stumba” of kava. Even though the garden was less than a mile away, this chore took most of the morning. Lots of people were interested in Jamie and what she was doing here, so there were lots of pauses and storying on along the way.

In the afternoon we swam in the pools of a smaller waterfall close to our house. Jamie agrees with me that the place looks like it was the model for Rainforest Café, or maybe a putt-putt golf course.

Back at the house that evening, my host dad and Justin set to work grinding the kava in the yard. As kava is a social thing, a few other men wandered into the yard as well. People got to asking about Jamie and “her” ship and got really excited when we got out pictures of Antartica and the ship that she works on. It was special for Jamie to be able to share her experiences with some of the locals on Maewo.

The next day was Thursday and we were back in the boat again to head to the airport on Ambae. We had competition for the boat as the chiefs and other leaders of the island had planned to go to Ambae to make peace. The people of Maewo were apologizing to those on Ambae for the killings that had happened a few weeks prior. Three huge pigs, all with tusks that had grown back into the jaw full circle, kava, and custom mats were boated over along with the men first thing in the morning. Pigs with tusks like that are worth about 30 to 40 thousand vatu ($300-$400) and are pretty rare. A gift of this magnitude was a strong statement of apology coming from the people of Maewo. We came along in the second boat trip, just as people were starting to gather for the sorry ceremony. We had a flight to catch, so we didn’t get to stay and watch, and instead hopped into a truck for the airport.

It was Justin and I’s first time off the island since December; 82 days according to our laptop’s antivirus update. Upon arriving in Santo, we headed straight for our lodging and the shower. With layers of salt and grime rinsed off, we allowed ourselves to head for ice cream! Jamie was very indulging in Justin and I’s giddy anticipation of good food. That night she and Justin splurged on a lobster dinner.

The next day we played tourist in Santo. We hired a tour bus to take us to the infamous Blue Hole: a surreally blue fresh water swimming hole. We swam for a good hour, entertaining ourselves with underwater photos and a rope swing. Swimming in fresh water is much more refreshing than swimming in salt water and we lingered for as long as we could stand the cold temperature of the water. Our driver and tour guide started a small fire to smoke away the mosquitoes that were devouring them as we swam, but otherwise didn’t mind our slow pace.

The next stop planned was supposed to be Champagne Beach; but first our tour guide wanted to show off his family’s resort called Lonnoc. And once we got there, we didn’t want to leave. Simple bungalows constructed of local materials lined a beautiful, soft, white sand beach. A restaurant in the middle and small picnic areas on the beach were perfect for relaxing and enjoying the natural beauty of the area. I even noticed on the menu that you could place an advance order for local dishes like laplap and baked fish. Very cool to meld tourist expectations with the local culture.

We decided to hang out at the resort for the afternoon. It was on their beach that Jamie attempted to fly her kite, a traveling tradition that she attempts in every country she visits. Then we spent our time alternating between snacking on cheese and crackers and swimming in the ocean. We rented snorkels and tried checking out the reefs in front of the resort, but with little luck. The water was murky and we could hardly see a thing. Still, it was a beautiful place to spend a relaxing afternoon.

Jamie’s travels back home started the next day. We had a few hours in the morning to visit the mama’s market and handicraft shops. Then, we put Jamie in a taxi to head for home. It was sad to see her go; it may very well be another year before we meet up again. But, it was worth it to reconnect and share our world first hand with a close friend.

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Photos

I'm on a boat!
Jamie ready to head to Maewo

My host papa and I
We're in the wettest seats in the boat. Thanks dad.

Sunset
We arrived on Maewo just as the sun was starting to set.

Big Water
Enjoying the view despite the mud.

Ship Stories
Bridging cultures

Peace Offering
Pigs on the beach of Ambae for the sorry ceremony

Civilization tastes so good
Lobster dinner

Let's go fly a kite. Or not.
The beach at Lonnoc Resort.