Advertisement
Published: January 17th 2010
Edit Blog Post
The optimizer
Frank Zolnai. But he garnered other nicknames during his time with us. * Please note: The opinions and observations of Project MARC volunteers do not reflect the thoughts or opinions of the overall organization.
Thursday 1 October:
Motored over, off-loaded all the gear. Clinic finally opened and our purpose kicked in. My involvement over, I took my camera and went walkabout. God what a place!!! What People!!!
Where there’s work many hands knock it over very quickly, and without apparent supervision. When there’s no work, the natives do nothing. But they do it segregated. Women and kids in one place, and the blokes somewhere else. This is also true of their kastom ceremonies. The blokes do their thing, and the women - quite separately - do theirs (a bit like our pubs back home). Ace photo opportunities and the D90 copped it’s first true field test. Passed with flying colors.
Some 14 yachts were visiting Kastom. Mostly Yanks, but some French, Italian, and German languages were also overheard.
Two transient white tribes also live on Volumbai Island: “The Hippies,” Educators and Do-Gooders, and “The Anthropologists,” Smart-arsed individuals trying to find reason for their own existence by studying those of others. I asked one what it is exactly that
Opening Ceremonies
The tim tam that is being carried behind the chief weighed several hundred pounds. he does. I’m still waiting for an answer, and I guess, he is too.
Lunch on day one. Fantastic. I guess it’s not everyday tucker for the locals. But when they have something to party for, they do it good. Too good. Not unlike us, really.
A cow was slaughter and butchered-up for the feast. The carcass lie on a corrugated roofing iron (with rust). And the butchering was done on a table covered with palm leaves. I’m still blown by the complete lack of supervision. Those involved all seem to know their part, and get on with it.
And then there’s the flies. Strewth!!! I though we had it bad!!! Granted, ours are much bigger, but these little buggers work in gangs. I’m covered in bruises just from trying to piss them off. Aerogard doesn’t work ‘cause the little buggers can’t read.
And then there are the mozzies. Small, sneaky, and painless. If you’re lucky, you might hear them comin’ in, but mostly you only find out once you’re up in lumps, or passing out for lack of blood. They hide in the grass too, so your ankles are their first sure bet. I hate
Akhamb men
This team was from Akhamb island I was told. ‘em!!! I hate ‘em a lot!!!
Saturday 3 October ‘09
My second visit. Walked to a near-by village. It was everything I hoped for, plus extras. Very poor, but neat, clean and friendly. Paul, a Ni-Vanu, showed me around. His bad English and my poor Bislama got us laughing a lot. But then laughter is the true international language.
I learned lots from Paul. Like an outrigger canoe is owned by one person, but held and used in common by all the village. Their diet is high in seafood, local fruit and veg, but red meat (pig, beef, goat, and mutton) are more for special occasions. Their bush gardens are all over the place, and a lot of them are only accessible by outrigger. From our vantage point on the Alvei we see them heading off early in the morning and return late afternoon with their goods. Fantastic photo ops, but my battery was on charge so I’ll have to scrounge some up from the others.
Lunch was not as good as day one. I guess the style of food and preparation was shared around among the islanders, hence the difference.
More bad news!!! One of
Clinic work
Our office was one of the better set-ups we had in Vanuatu. the village chiefs (I think it was the Maskelyne Village but I couldn’t find it on a map), well, he stuffed-up. Somehow he forgot to provide Kastom with dances. All the others managed to pull it off but this one didn’t…so the paramount chiefs held council and the miscreant had to be held accountable. Blood had to flow!!!
The chief and about a dozen others were lined up and lectured about the importance of Kastom. All in Bislama, but I managed to get the guts. The chief extended his apology, he and his mob then filed past the paramount chiefs, shook hands in a further gesture of apology and forgiveness, and that was that. Almost…blood still had to flow. So a pig was dispatched by a large hunk of tree trunk to the side of the head. No points for sportsmanship. The pig was tied to a bamboo pole and the native swinging the tree trunk was built like a country shit-house. To the natives, though, all this was just fine because prior to the group handshakes, all had to firstly touch the pig and thank it for its part in the ceremony. So I guess
Team Ironie
Steve, SueLin, and Frank that made it all fine and dandy…except for the pig. Some ten minutes after the dispatch the poor thing started waggin’ its tail and kickin’ its bound legs. The natives just carried it away to be prepared for who knows? More tucker, I guess. (Wish I could dump all my sins by killin’ a pig.)
About Kastom Dancing. Very physical, and lasts a long time. Non-stop. No wonder they’re good at Rugby.
Sgt. Frank Zolnai
Australia
October 2009
Advertisement
Tot: 0.082s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 10; qc: 28; dbt: 0.0408s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Ron Ca$hman
non-member comment
Frankie great story
Frankie what a good read it is written as in your inimitable style . It is as if i was in a room with your telling your story .