ambaelievable

A collection of stories, in no special order. fancy word vomit! enjoy:

just found this one - sending my stuff to the cargo ship

Because my papa is the zca, he is in charge of visiting the schools in his zone and observing the teachers. One night while we were eating dinner, he told me that he was heading to Michelle's site in the morning. Lombaha, her village, is in north Ambae and much more inland than Lotahimamavi. She lives on Simon School grounds, but it backs into the village, all on a hill antap, surrounded by creeks. Many of the islands in Vanuatu are covered in rivers, but because Mt. Manero is active and doesn't have time to form rivers yet, we have hundreds of creek slithering through the island. When it's heavy rainfall, the creeks become dangerous and students from neighboring villages can't cross them to come to school. Michelle is trying to get a bridge project going, but is waiting for funding. It would make a big difference in her community, so fingers perpetually crossed!

I convinced my papa to let me join him on the trek, despite his warnings of an exhausting day. My parents last teaching assignment was in Lombaha where  my papa was the headmaster.They lived there for 8 years, so the journey up is as familiar walk home for him. We left our homes at 5:30 and walked the main road while the sun rose. The picture I'm using for the background of this is from that hike, just when the sky turns from rosy to golden as the sun makes its way up into position for the day. This hue blast has become the best trade off for the several roosters who sleep in the avocado tree in my front yard. When they're up, I'm up. Now I thank them for that.

We were on the main dirt road for about an hour and eventually got to the foot path. The next 2 hours were an uphill journey through Ambae bush. We crossed creeks and took breaks and my papa told me the names of all of the trees and plants we passed. It is unbelievable how much the ni-Van know about the land. We passed through a dozen or so villages and finally ended up at Simon School. Amen! I surprised Michelle and then took a nap in her hammock while she finished up class. She showed me around her village and we made simboro for lunch. Michelle has a wonderful hot sauce spread, so I dove right into that. In the afternoon, we began our trek back. Much easier! At one point on the main road part, on a very easy patch of dirt/basalt gravel path, I spaced out and slid to my bloody doom. Just kidding mom, but I did cut up my leg and got a good laugh about making it through the bush, but falling on the road. It's finally healed up, so no more weird stares at my leg anymore. followed by laughs, of course, at how I was "sleep walking" according to my papa. It was an exhausting day!

hike to lombaha

So when there's a full moon or anything past half full, the sky lights up and you can sit outside and enjoy each other's company without flashlights and candles. This was the case for a couple of nights, but one evening I looked outside while sitting in my parents house and noticed that it was dark. I mentioned this to my mama and, thinking it was strange, she went outside and gasped. I followed her and the saw that the moon was a deep reddish orange. She told me that she's glad we are Christians (they still don't fully grasp the Jewish thing. I just kinda go with it, it's harmless enough) because this was the end. I asked her to explain and she said that this was a sign from Jesus saying that the world was ending. I wasn't too keen on taking her word on this, so we went to the school library (thankfully we've got one of those) and found the book on astronomy that I was looking at earlier. I found the pages on lunar eclipse. As my mom was reading it, my aunt and headmaster both came over to ask me what was happening because they thought it was the end, too. After we all collectively breathed a sigh of relief that we could avoid island hysteria and widespread panic (ha ha), I explained to them what an eclipse was and we sat outside and watched it make its move. Apparently all over Vanuatu, people were asking the same questions and coming to the same conclusions. I learned a few things that night: "the rapture" is a good thing to name something if you want to freak people out, ignorance isn't always bliss, and lunar eclipses with a sky full of stars are breathtaking.

The teachers are government paid, so that means that every other Friday is a countrywide pay day event. I'm not included in the money part of this because Peace Corps pays its volunteers' living allowances separately, but it's still a great day to tag along! School is let out at 11:30 and we all hop on trucks and head into town. Sitting in the back of the truck (standing if you're lucky and up close to the cabin where you can lean forward) has become on of my favorite activities ever. The ride from school to town is the best of all things - wind blowing, sun shining down, everyone in high spirits, views of Maewo at every clearing... I will never forget the feeling and the inevitable goofy grin plastered on my face. Two more years of that ride. Woo!

"Town" refers to Lolowai and Saratamata. East Ambae is home to both of these little hubs that are about a 30 minute walk from one another. Lolowai has a cargo ship landing and is where you catch the boat to Maewo. There are 4-5 small shops and two big ones, blue store and wai co-op. My family owns a little store, Vuvu Tambe II (I asked what happened to Vuvu Tambe I, but I didn't get an answer) My aunt, Mami Amina, is the shopkeeper for my papa and the shop's porch becomes our home base on payday. After all the shopping and wandering about is finished, we meet back up at VT 2 and wait for the truck to bring us back home. My mama runs the school/community canteen and stocks up at both blue store and wai co-op. They've got pretty fair prices and sometimes blue store has cold beer! I buy one for myself and for my parents to enjoy when we get home. They don't really stay cold, but "a cold one" is still a nice treat after a week of classes.

After a short Lolowai stop, we either walk or hop on a truck to Saratamata. This is where the bank, post office, police station, education office, and other small businesses live. Bank line on pay day is pretty daunting, so I usually grab a (cold!) chocolate milk and go ask the post office lady Celia to double check if I have mail. On that note, thank you for the letters! Each one has put a smile on my face and brightened the two week gap until the next stop in town. Find yourself bored with nothing to do? There's no such thing! Write a letter - I happen to know someone who would very much love that. And then you'll get one in return. Pretty neat!

Because everyone makes their way to town to either collect their pay or to sell this-and-thats to those who just did, the place is really busy. I get a chance to catch up with the other volunteers on the island and swap stories. Jessie Rae and Nathan, a wonderful couple, live pretty close to Saratamata. Nathan teaches at Ambaebulu and Jessie Rae helps out at the Lolowai hospital. I've slept over at their place a couple of times and its always a good time. They are welcoming, easy going people and Jessie Rae is hysterical. I'm so happy we are island mates!

layover on pentecost, transporting simba and pistol to ambae!

Once the afternoon rolls in and you're ready to get back to your quiet little community, the truck scoops you up and takes ya home. My papa grabs a big tuna that the fishermen bring in and we cook it up for dinner. Pay day reminds me of Wet Hot American Summer when the counselors get to leave camp (minus all of the absurdness they get into) "It's fun getting away from camp, even if it's just for an hour!" Or however it goes. Always nice to get away from site and see a cluster of different faces. I'll have to take some shots of town next time I'm there.

So the rats aren't US-sized rats, they look more like mice. But! what they're lacking in size, they make up for in quantity. When I got to site, I found that the rats had decided to look after my house for me. Such considerate creatures! However, my little house just isn't big enough for all of us. I decided it was time for a puskat. The next time I went into Lolowai I asked around and found an olfala with puskats. He let me take a kitten and that was the last day I've been woken up by rats! I named him mighty quinn (maeti kwen, bislama style!) because quinn the eskimo has been stuck in my head for a very long time. Kwen is a funny little kitten and though not big enough to catch/eat rats yet, his scent scares them away.

you'll not see nothing like the mighty kwen!
(bae yu no luk wan samtin olsem maeti kwen - a little bislama for ya)

Two days later I was at church and a woman brought me another puskat because she saw me in Lolowai and assumed I needed more than one. I named her lava because she's orange and I live on a volcano. I went from being a single lady to a mother of two! kwen and lava are best friends/lovers and will hopefully hold off on reproducing for a while - I'm not quite ready to be a full blown cat lady. The good news on that front is that I'll be able to distribute out the little lavakwens pretty easily. In the mean time, they are good company. They climb up trees and slide back down, eat coconut shavings, examine the chickens, and have taught me the art of the daily cat nap. I hope they're alive when I return on Monday. My mama is keeping an eye on them, and if anything, they'll get a little hungry and learn how to hunt. I watched kwen catch a lizard and eat it, but 15 minutes later he yacked it up, fully intact and still kinda squirming. Practice makes perfect!

little lava

lover pups

huntress in training 

cat nap master

There are some gnarly spiders here. When you go inland, or antap, the spiders get crazier. They don't faze anyone here though. They aren't really spooked by much at all actually. I'm not a spider lover and they think it's hilarious that people could be afraid of them. They tell each other in language how I don't like them and they crack up and shake their heads. Even the little kids look at me with that face! The local word for spider is tagaga. When I check my swim house before I bathe (swim) I yell out "tagaga hatie" and my parents laugh at the absurdity of my announcing that there are no spiders. The 8 legged critters really like my natangura roof and come out of its thatched-ness at night time to check in on me. Really, it's prime time to catch bugs, so I let them be. We are allies in the never ending battle against mosquitoes - those assholes just don't give up! My only rule is for them to remain out of broom reach. I proudly made my broom with coconut leaves, so I'm happy to use it when one steps out of line. I'm slightly worried to return to site to find a new generation of spiders who don't know the rules yet. Hopefully the puskats are hungry enough to chase them off!

how bout them coconuts?!