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Published: December 12th 2009
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Marge Krzyzelewski
Marge had to have this photo with John who was wearing a Picton Castle shirt. Marge sailed the Picton for a while a few years back. When Seamus asked me to write a few pages about my Nambagura volunteer experience I have to admit I was a little bit stumped (and a bit miffed, homework, really Seamus, homework, nobody told me there would be homework). What do I write for two pages about this village that hasn’t been written about or experienced in every other village; we came, we helped, we connected, we were thanked. And then it dawned on me that it was this last part that set apart my Nambagura experience for me.
From our first day of work for MARC, which was the offloading of the supplies into the copra shed at Banam Bay, there was something unique that tweaked my interest about Nambagura. It was the chief’s son Taso, a rather large almost burly man but with a teddy bear look and feel to him. On this first day I was assigned the task of organizing the supplies into project piles inside the copra shed, taking down the names of the many helping hands and finally inquiring and writing down who would be the village foreperson for the project. I then approached each foreperson, told them what supplies were for their project
and asked them to compile a list of village workers for the project and organize a schedule of sorts for the work to be done. Out of all the Chiefs and/or forepersons I spoke with, it was Taso who came back to me with questions about this task. There was an eagerness in him, about the project and about ensuring it gets done right. I didn’t know if this eagerness stemmed from his personality or from this being the village’s first Project MARC venture or if some other reason was the source. I would come to find out that the answer was a combination of these things.
Nambagura is the second farthest village of this year’s Project MARC September Expedition. It is a 2-hour, healthy paced walk from Banam Bay, with the last half hour consisting of a trek over a steep hill. The hill is an arduous climb in the dead heat and sun but the climber is rewarded with a beautiful vista at the top and a beautifully nestled village at the end. The village (like all villages in Malekula) is enveloped by the lush greenery of jungle, but unlike other villages Nambagura is set beside a
Gettin' the info.
Marge was a massive help when it came to keeping things organized. jewel of a beach. Around the last bend in the road a visitor is presented with a little hamlet that is almost tucked away unto itself in a secluded bay serenaded by the sound of waves on the beach and surf in the distance. One almost immediately thinks, I have found paradise lost. And it is tempting to carry this thought until one sees the village’s drinking water, held by a broken cement tank, or pit well, open to the elements and often growing an ecosystem of it’s own. And then there is the church, the most modest church I have yet to see. It is essentially a large hut since the villagers are unable to afford a more prized cement or wood structure for their church. I am then told that Nambagura is also one of the poorest villages of Southeast Malekula. Which is why the previous year a charitable organization began to build them a large cement church. Since the church is the only building with a tin roof, it is from this roof that the rainwater is to be collected. We waste no time dillydallying and make our way to the new structure all the while being
Meeting of Chiefs
Marge was the only woman in this meeting of area chiefs. But I told them that she was a chief at the lab where she worked in Canada. It was all cool after that. greeted by a chorus of hellos from the villagers.
True to Taso’s first impression, we come upon an already begun project. Taso and his men had already started to pour the cement base upon which the rain barrel was to stand. Seamus asks Taso how he would like the project to proceed and he tells us we can get started on the installation of the eavestroughing while his men continue with the cement. It is here that I shall be most brief in details. We set about nailing a fishing line that would define the angle of the eavestroughing and then continued to work with Taso and his men hand in hand. They did not sit aside and watch us do the work, a common pitfall of the historically inherited social dynamic of white visitors to Malekula. Neither did we sit and watch them do the work, the flip side of the same social dynamic, instead we worked alongside each other. Jay, was all over this project working on it from start until completion. I assisted in the morning and seeing how there were enough cooks in the kitchen, Mattia took the opportunity to get a game of cards
Cresting the ridge.
Top of the hill between Burbar and Nambagura. This was our Nambagura team: Marge, Jay, and Mattia. going with the locals. After a quick break for a bite to eat, Mattia assisted while I took the opportunity to teach the kids how to throw a Frisbee, not that I needed to teach much, they seemed to have a natural talent for it. Then, to up the fun ante, I decided to teach the kids a few basics of the Frisbee team sport Ultimate. They took to that as well and so we moved onto a larger field and with more kids. It was a joy to once again be able to play a game with unbridled enthusiasm, that is until my thumping heart and sweaty brow reminded me that I hadn’t played a sprinting sport in a few months. What was I thinking to take up the game in the heat of a South Pacific island? It must have been the intoxicating effect of playing with unbridled enthusiasm. In the meantime work continued, Seamus returned, and I recall him hollering something along the lines of, ‘Woohoo! Spreading the joy of Ultimate, yaaaah!’ until it was time for village midday meal and then for us to go. We anticipated the village would invite us to join in with
them and so I brought with me a kilogram bag of sugar, a most prized gift in these parts, to give to the village in exchange. What I did not anticipate was the genuine and humble gratitude of this village, so akin to their chief’s son Taso.
They presented us with leis in a traditional Salu-Salu ceremony but in a most befitting familial fashion, without the usual pomp and circumstance. The leis were presented inside the eating hut, the speeches kept short and a beautiful mat was presented to us. Their motivation was not to impress us with a showy presentation, or to outdo a neighbouring village but just to say thank you and to show their gratitude. The part that we volunteers played in this project was the smallest part, but in return for our small part they invited us to sit down and dine with them. I only wish that I had brought more sugar as a gift in exchange, because the effort made by the village in the presentation of the food, quality of the food (they served meat laplap, a rarity) and volume of food for such a poor village was truly humbling and awe
inspiring. I was touched, more than I expected to be. It was a pity we had to be off in such a rush, I was ready to start feeling like extended family. But alas, all good things must come to an end.
Taso and his endearing qualities of eagerness, friendly demeanour, hard work and gratitude was a microcosm of the village as a whole. As volunteers we were honoured to have been bestowed the villagers’ gratitude on behalf of all the people who made this project happen, most of all the donors. I only hope this account does the villagers justice in relaying their gratitude to all the other deserving persons in this endeavour.
P.S. Yes, I left the Frisbee behind as a gift as well.
Margaret Krzyzelewski, Canada, September 2009
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Marty O'Bryan
non-member comment
A Double-Portion of Generosity
Dear Margaret, Thank you for sharing your experiences with all of us. I hope to also be able to serve the Ni-Vanuatan people with humility next year when I travel to Vanuatu to see and experience this great work that you became a part of. Those mountain treks in the tropical heat concern me a little, as I live in an arid climate--Arizona. So, we desert people are real "wusses" when it comes to humidity. But if Seamus can do it, so can I . . . I hope! (Gotta get to the gym and put myself on a rigorous work-out program. Yuk!) Again, thank you for adding your time and talent to a great work down there. Peace, Marty O'Bryan (Seamus' mom)