Who needs a butcher?

The day was cool and sunny for my sister, Lenneth’s, custom ceremony for her upcoming marriage. The youngfellas of my village lead our family’s 2 female cows down close to the shore. My papa asked me to take some photos of him with his cows, which he raised and cared for 5+ years. He didn’t want to be present for their slaughter.

Ison, my RTC manager’s brother and another youth from my village held up the rifle as many of us clasped our ears in anticipation of the screaming bullet that was aimed for the cow’s head. Traditionally, the cow is struck on the head with an ax but luckily, my papa has a rifle, although the bullets are small ones. It did the job though…one shot in the forehead and the cow was put down. Its neck was then cut to make sure and several of the guys began chopping away with an axe and knives. They dissected it open, removing the insides as blood trickled out of a vein in the neck. Surprisingly, there was less blood than I would have thought. One of the cows, sadly, was pregnant with a tiny fetus that could fit a palm.

Most every part of the cow will be cooked and eaten. They cut the cow up into four pieces and hauled each large, heavy piece to the nakamal to skin and slice into smaller pieces, some of which to be cooked and the rest to be given to each family who attends the celebration.

Since being here, I guess it can be said that I’ve been somewhat desensitized to the killing of animals although I cannot manage to kill anything but mosquitoes and ants which I must massacre on a weekly basis with a poisonous spray. I did think about killing a chicken once…stared right in its eyes as my host mama Eva is holding it, explaining that I take the quill of the feather and stick it in its ear in order to puncture the brain which kills it instantly. This isn’t something I haven’t seen before even when I was younger on trips to China where they will chop the heads off. Nothing I can’t handle, but I just could not bring myself to do it. I really wanted to…where and when will I ever have the chance to kill a chicken? Many of us, minus the vegetarians, eat chicken almost daily but purchase it packaged, pink and slimy, ready for a frying pan, grill or oven. So, as you gasp, remember it had to be killed too.

Brianna Russell, my Paama partner had the courage to choke a chicken. Really, she choked it to death. There’s even footage on facebook if you want to see it! And not only that, she killed a pig (small chief Brianna:) Needless to say, I couldn’t do either but I do have a few more months here so maybe I’ll get the guts to do it. (no pun intended)

A challenge and a blessing

The Rural Training Center(RTC) on Paama now has 10 students attending, of which five will graduate this November. We’ve lost a couple teachers, attendance is not always good and the RTC will not be getting a replacement Peace Corps Volunteer…these issues have been disheartening. There are RTCs on other islands that have 30 students and some who are struggling to keep a few so we are right in the middle…at least we are running. Without permanent teachers, Sandy, the manager and I have created a school plan to bring in men and women around Paama who have certain skills, knowledge or experiences to do workshops.

I’ve recently started the computer class, did a First Aid workshop and made collages. A papa who worked in the vineyards in New Zealand will come present about his experience and some mamas will be showing the students how to sew shirts, hanging clothes baskets and how to make different island food. The bank manager will also be coming to talk about savings plans and why one should save money in the bank instead of burying it in the ground which is what many do.

It has been a challenge here to encourage enrollment and attendance, partly because the people of Paama do not struggle for food or shelter. These basic necessities are easily met by going to the garden, fishing and working with the community to build a house. For us, we must go to school or learn a trade in order to find a job, earn money to buy food and pay rent or a mortgage. There’s less need here for money so in turn the challenge of promoting the importance of attending school can be difficult.

It’s a blessing that they can survive from the land, ocean and man power. The materialism that our society is so addicted to is still not as prevalent although mobile phones have just been introduced during my time here on Paama so another expense now added. And there’s often someone asking if I can get them a DVD player or digital camera so it’s happening here too…

While the advancements in communication and living is improving the lives of the people here, there's also the downside that the more we have, the more we want. So, the inevitable is gonna happen with more households getting electricity and thus more getting T.V.s and DVD players. I just hope this untouched paradise takes its time getting there.

Happy 30th year Independence anniversary birthday celebration day, Vanuatu!

While In Port Vila, as per Independence Day festivities similar to what we witness on the 4^th of July, fireworks are set off and the town is bustling with tourists and Ni Vanuatu visiting from the outer islands. Though on Paama there were no fireworks, but we did celebrate all week...island style. Leading it off with Children’s Day where kids marched, games were played and candy was eaten.

Several communities, about 10 villages, come together in Liro village and set up stalls (booths) to sell food and other handcrafts. There’s a stage, music (usually string band or the few popular songs that are played incessantly) and MC who announces activities. This year, the MALAMPA province provided 400,000vatu (about 4,000USD) for the celebration and a committee was formed to create a program for each day. Competitions included sports (football i.e. soccer, volleyball, island relay, canoe race, swimming) as well as best island dress, string band, church choir, best food stall and fastest kava chugger (I would have lost). Other races included fastest mat weaver, best sand drawing, and even custom magic (although I missed that show).

It was such a fun week…I participated in the island dress show, donned with one of my sister Lenneth’s new dresses from her powder shower and Auntie Eda made me a hat made from a coconut leaf with flowers and balloons dangling from and bouncing around my head. Each mama approached the stage dancing and gesturing, bowing and curtsying. We all danced on stage while flapping our island dresses. It was a sight.

One evening, after Mama Eva and little sister Lisa left (it’s a 40 min hike or 20 min canoe row to Liro), I stayed with my Papa Isaiah to drink kava. Women on Paama don’t usually drink kava although some do privately so it’s really lucky that I have the opportunity to storian with the papas and uncles while enjoying kava. After a couple shells for me (and quite a few for my Papa Isaiah), we ventured to the next village where his canoe is parked and we climb aboard while the waves crash around us. The ocean is slightly rough and we start to paddle…my headlamp leading us home. It was difficult to see and with a kava buzz and rocking, I just closed my eyes and paddled, hoping to keep the laplap in my belly but nope, I fed the fish on the way. We made it safely back to Tahi…me stumbling back up to my hut.

On the 30th, I was invited as a special guest along with other “bigman” of North Paama to be recognized, given a “flower greeting” and to sit on stage during the flag raising, Vanuatu National Anthem and speeches. Other “bigman” (they really say that) included chiefs, government workers, school headmasters, church ministers and community leaders. It’s humbling to be up there, with only a few women and being the only metalo (whiteman in Paama language…as they call me here, although I try to explain to them that I’m yellow J). Afterwards, we were invited to a “cocktail party” where we ate rice with beef, cookies, cake, twisties (equivalent to our cheetos/cheez doodles but nowhere as good, especially while acting like a Peace Frog) and drink juice which is really just coolaide. Yeah, I drank the coolaide.

A bridal shower, Paama style

The oldest of the Avock family is my sister Lenneth age 24 who lives on another island, Epi with her daughter and husband to be. It’s not uncommon for couples to bear children before the official marriage ceremony. There are several parts to custom marriages that lead up to the actual religious union. Similar to our engagement parties and bridal/groom showers, one of them is when Aunties of the bride who had given the bride a name when she was born*, dress the bride. (*Most Ni-Vanuatu have several names…my little sister Lisa is also a Joyce and Kenny given to her by aunties.)

So the “dress the bride” shower for my sister, Lenneth is the reason for the 2 cows being killed. Large bags of rice, yam, manioc and other root crops are brought by family and friends as gifts. They also bring mats, calico, bed sheets and blankets. During the dressing of the bride, all the aunties start to dress my sister with island dresses…removing one and putting on another. Baby powder is doused over her or properly called here “swim long powda”. Her sisters, Mar, Lisa and myself and mama Eva are also dressed in new island dresses.

I wasn’t prepared for this and didn’t wear a bra (love that I don’t have to wear them here! J). An Auntie strips my dress off and I practically flash all the Mamas! Then got drenched with baby powder as well. More dresses and calico peeled off and on, whiffs of snowy powder float all around us…

After the powder shower (a new name, I’m giving it), we returned back to the nakamal where papas are eating the freshly butchered, organic beef with rice and island cabbage. Kids are running around the rows of “party favors” that are set out for each family…yam and beef. We then gather around for the presenting of all the gifts. First mats, then blankets, sheets, calico, more island dresses and a bucket, some dishes and money.

Music plays while I bounce around (yep, that’s me) and storian with family and friends who are visiting. It was an amazing day, surreal and beautiful.

The countdown…15 weeks until the end

It’s now 15 weeks until the end of my Peace Corps service and what a journey it’s been. The roller coaster ride of emotion I’ve experienced, from the tears that fell when I first arrived because of my loneliness to what soon will be tears of sadness about leaving this place I’ve called home for two years. In almost every conversation I have with someone here these days, they mention something about my near departure and I always say “Mi no wantem tink abaot, i gat taem yet blong storian.” I don’t want to think about it, there’s still time to story.

I’ve made some amazing relationships here. My host family for one…my wonderful and generous host mama Eva who never asks me for anything and is nurturing and caring to all seven (me included) of her children. I joke with people here about being the oldest of her seven children, but the last born. My host papa Isaiah, the alpha male who encourages my kava drinking (thank goodness because my mama and sisters are SDA), loves to storian about his life.

Then there’s Uncle Hapi age 66 who I often visit on afternoons to storian with. He is incredibly smart, used to run the Co-Op store, chair the RTC committee and has traveled to England. We talk about everything under the Paama sky from politics, religion, family, travel, education or just village news.

The SDA mamas who I spend Sabbath Saturdays at church with, have been a huge support for me these past two years. The Minister’s wife, Lylin especially who is always so appreciative of my presence. I participate with their bible study and will sometimes tell stories to the kids…the boy who cried wolf, little red riding hood or my experiences here and back home in the states. After service, a group picnic under the mango tree with a cool breeze through the Paama hills as our backdrop.

I am trying to appreciate and soak in this place and the people with what time I have remaining. I walk down to the beach everyday and have decided that I’ll do a post about “My last 10 Paama sunsets.” While days often drag, time stops when I am sitting on the beach, the waves lightly crashing, drinking a coconut my little brother opened for me with a bush knife (machete) and gazing at the sky while clouds float overhead, the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon. Not one sunset painting is the same…God’s beautiful canvas. I’m sometimes the only one on the beach which I can’t imagine will happen many other places I will be in the future. So peaceful, so beautiful and along with these amazing people, will be so missed.