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Published: February 17th 2008
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Almost There
Benn on a 747 We’re going down.
As I looked out the tiny window of the even smaller Air Vanuatu Twin Otter, all I could see were the hundreds of coconut palm trees lined up in perfect rows, getting closer and closer at a speed not unlike the speed attained by a downed WWII DC-3. A quick glance at my attorney Buckskin Benn revealed a look of calm and sedation that only people who jump out of aircraft after three or four Tuskers, just for the shear joy of it all, can produce. With eyes focusing, I can see out of the cockpit now. Everything might still be okay. There is now an opening coming into view that has to be long enough to handle at least a Boeing 747 in not a Twin Otter. Two points of interest here: No runway and there seems to be one of the many resident island dogs lazily lounging in the grass where the absent runway should be. Valid points, but there is nothing I can do as we touch down, bounce, touch down and roll to a stop in front of a small brick building that functions as the Lamap Airport. As the door opens, we
Coral
Coral near Moso Island get our first deep breaths of the Sitting Dog’s rear end that is southern Malekula, ready for the mission ahead: Seek out and obtain photos of native Ni-Vanuatu namba wearing naked people***
Our first moments in Malekula were hectic ones. Made so by our arrival in a country who’s first language is most definitely not English and the fact that my attorney and I speak nothing but English and a little bit of the Amerikaans that we made up. We decided to move towards all of the people encircled around a silver, late 80’s model, Toyota pickup. With almost no idea where we were, we chose to jump in. If there is one thing that we have learned on the islands, it’s that if you don’t take whatever transportation is available, you had better like hiking.
The funny thing about your fifth shell of Vanuatu Kava, is that you should have stopped after the third. This first became apparent to me when Luke, our newly befriended Ni-Van from Lamap, quietly whispered in my ear “Benn is feeling the Kava”.
Since I too had been lost in my own head listening to the Kava sing sweet lullabies to me,
In a Boat
Kayaking near Moso Island, Efate I had hardly noticed Benn swerving uncontrollably down the only “road” through Lamap. I guess that I should fill the reader in a bit. Lamap is a village in the butt, or I guess it would be the tail of the Sitting Dog (see a map). It is the home to nearly 800 native Ni-Vanuatu who live a subsistence life. In this way, they grow and raise everything that they need to survive including a bit of Coprah. The latter being roasted coconut which is shipped to a larger town to have the Hell squeezed out of it for the purpose of creating oil. And yes, they seem to grow copious amounts of Kava. These two items are their only sources of income.
3 days prior to our departure from the friendliest, most hospitable people on this third planet form the great flaming ball of gas; we haphazardly met our first of many friends. Luke, with his scraggly beard and who reminded me of Moses, showed us such sites as Port Sandwich and the many graves of some forgotten Catholic people responsible for crushing native beliefs. He even opened coconuts for us with a machete the size of a
Bananas are good
An open air market in Port Villa, Efate. The Capital of Vanuatu full grown midget’s leg. The ease with which he cleaved flesh from nut, made my attorney glad knowing that these descendents of cannibals no longer, as they say, “eat the man”.
Luke quickly became one of our best friends in the village. Every night at precisely 5 o’clock, (or as we tended to call it, 6:30) Luke would swing by Levi’s Guesthouse and save us from our thatched roof dwelling also inhabited by hand sized spiders. This would of course signal the beginning of the nightly Kava ceremony, in which we tended to be the guests of honor. Funny thing about your second shell of Kava, I could swear that I could understand Bruno the fisherman when he spoke to me in nothing other than Bislama.
I could go on and on about our adventures with the descendents of the Small Nambas and about how much fun we had, but it’s time to pack ourselves into the bed of the purple Toyota called life (you know, the one with the broken leaf spring) and head out onto that potholed coral road that I call adventure, in order to fulfill our mission in Malekula. And hey, since the people
Northern Malekula
This is the Island of Vao where, if we had reached it, we may have seen some wicked Namba action of Lamap were not naked, we had to blow that proverbial Popsicle stand anyway. We had a hot lead that we may be able to find some traditional Namba wearers among the clans of the Big Nambas. This unfortunately ment a 50km ride towards the towns/villages of Lakatoro and Norsup.
Funny thing about 12 combined shells of Kava over three nights, yea, it tends to put your mind to sleep for two days following. When Buckskin and I awoke, we found ourselves in an electrified box complete with ceiling fans. During our reawakening, we found the sport of gassing cockroaches to be quite entertaining. That and piecieng together the happening of the last several days. Being Friday now and our flight leaving the next day, we had little time to accomplish our mission. Our tickets had to be extended and we had to snap out of it! But first, we dance!
We now found ourselves with a submission: Wander around the cow infested coconut plantations until we find something that resembles an air strip. Play the stupid foreigner card and beg to have our tickets pushed back. All this while not forgetting the all important piece of traveling
Sunset
Our Buddy Luke and a wicked sunset over Port Sandwich. advice, smile while lying.
In retrospect, it was stupid to push back our flight two days, as those days happened to fall on a weekend. And as I mentioned before, the culture-sucking missionaries beat us here by a measly two hundred or so years and converted everyone. The result, Buckskin and I are never to find a ride to the north of the island because the natives are all at church. Great planning, no?
Although we technically failed our mission on Malekula, it wasn’t a total loss. We of course met our usual cast of interesting characters. Lets see. There was a drunk local (they don’t often stray from the Kava) named Pink Floyd, who, between hiccups, told us that he wanted to kill and cook for us a wonderful meal of Flying Fox (aka big friggin Fruit Bat) in a light coconut curry sauce. There was also the beer-gutted, French speaking, Italian mullet guy slurping down raw oysters while plotting his conquering of the non-existent Club-Med scene on Malekula. Oh yea, and his turely French companion, who, along with his leaking appendage lesions, spoke to us in French even though we only knew the most mandatory words
Rain
the view from our digs at Levi's Guesthouse. Lamap, Malekula in French. These of course are we and Jacques Cousteau. Hopefully I spelled that correctly.
As it turned out, we accepted our mission incomplete and once again played the foreigner card to get a flight out a day earlier. As we approached the burned out shell of a building that functioned surprisingly well as an airport, we each shed a single tear. It was going to be hard to leave all the fun behind on the Isle of The Sitting Dog. See you in Santo.
***Our only prior knowledge of anything about Vanuatu came from a five hour long program televised by the wildly entertaining Travel Channel. This program featured the Bunlap Tribe of Pentecost Island. To our amazement, the members of this tribe were wearing nothing, but what can best be described as hula skirts and banana leaf penis holsters. The mission was conceived at this moment.
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Trish
non-member comment
love the coral shot, hate the dead carcass!
Hey, Not sure if I can respond this way but we'll see! Some great pictures and wild stories! Gotta get me some of that kava! So glad your writing if for no other eason than to document things you might otherwise forget or black out! Are you in or near New Guinea yet? We watched the BBC series Planet Earth -really incredible photography and there were some spectacular shots on NG. Got really excitied for you cuz I know how much you want to get there! 9 days til we head to Bonaire- should be an interesting group. Tell you all about it. The addition we building is 1/2 done and we're living in 1/2 our house while they break through. Ah the essence of sheetrock dust! I'd pass on the fruit bat but I'm sure the fresh produce must be amazing! Going to sit down to my cornmeal crust 3 cheese pizza! Now I'll bet you're jealous:-) Glad to hear all is well and the adventure continues in high fashion! Be safe. Love you, Trish