look out below! bible launch

I followed a truck one day and the driver clued me in on Something Big happening up in North Ambae, coincidentally in Michelle’s village Wainasasa. On October 16, there would be a bible launch for the North Ambae local language bible! I’m sorry to be the one to inform you that actual bibles were not to be launched, as the name clearly suggests. This bummed me out, too. But an equally memorable spectacle was sure to be observed, so I made plans to go!

michelle and her home. look at that rain collecting bucket line! a pro indeed

Michelle informed me that this project has been going on for over 10 years! An Australian pastor came to visit Wainasasa around 20 years ago and comes back every year or two with a few others to mingle with the locals. Bring basic medicine, hold bible study, storian, and scoot on out after a week or two. I think that this is both honorable work, but at the same time, not. But more importantly, how did this pastor end up in a remote village in the bush of North Ambae? Well, because he belongs to the church that is made up of the descendants of Charles Christopher Godden, of course. Who is Charles Christopher Godden? Let me tell you…

A long time ago, the men living on Australia (Englishmen? Would you say Australians at that point in history?) came to the South Pacific islands and manipulated men into coming to Australia to participate in, for lack of better words, slave labor in the sugarcane plantations. You’ve probably heard about blackbirding and its horrible conditions. Well Vanuatu was a victim of this and once it was over, you could imagine there were some uptight, pissed off ni-Vanuatu. I think us white men have made ourselves some enemies over the years, huh? A quote I just read in Mark Twain’s Following the Equator sums it right up: “There are many humorous things in the world; among them the white man’s notion that he is less savage than the other savages.”

So when missionary Charles Christopher Godden came to Ambae, shit got real. All was smooth for a while –he introduced Christianity, set up some churches, and began reforming/destroying island life as it had always been. When he headed up North, he crossed paths with one man who had made a vow to kill any white man he ever saw step foot on Ambae. So he did just that. On October 16, 1906.
People felt a bit guilty and now October 16 is Charles Christopher Godden Day on the island. The hospital is named in his memory and the bible launch was held on this day, the 108th anniversary.
Anyways this Godden church has funded the creation of a North Ambae language-translated bible! I think this is both good and bad, but mostly good. Here is an opportunity for the Ambae community to have something published in their own language. And of all things, the bible that they so passionately worship. By translating the most translated book in the world, man-Ambae has a chance to better understand what he is reading and more importantly, help preserve a local language that is slowly (but surely) being taken over by Bislama and English.

Despite my bitterness towards some of the God-fearing tactics and outcomes observed here in Vanuatu, I really am glad that this happened because it is helping keep the North Ambae language alive, which I think is very important!

a beautiful day in wainasa 

After 10 years of translation with an oldfala from Wainasasa, the bible was ready to launch! The Australian pastor decided to name the language “Havai” which means “what” in language, even though no one has ever referred to it as that. People call it “leonda” which is the language word for “language.” Simple and to the point. Really no need to change it.. but so it is.

Let the games begin! Jessie Rae and Chris picked me up in the provincial truck and we headed north. Chris is a New Zealand volunteer who works with the provincial government in Saratamata. He’s only here for 6 months, but he’s great to have around! We arrived at The End of the Road and started the half hour hike up to Wainasasa. We listened to speeches, watched some kastom dances, and saw the unveiling of the bible (next to a portrait of Charles Christopher Godden, which can also be found inside the bible) and the cutting of the cake. Cutting the cake is a big deal here! They fancy up the knife with ribbons and flowers and usually multiple people hold it while they slice through the icing castle. I’ve never seen a cake cut here any other way. Just celebratin’ the sweetness of life, that’s all! This one, by the way, was shaped like a jumbo bible and was made in Saratamata and brought up to the village!

beating the tam-tam.. without warning. makes ya jump every time

the martyr himself!

how many ni-vans does it take to cut a cake?

carrying wan bigfala laplap! 

We waited patiently for any signs of the launching of bibles, but to our dismay, it never happened. One thing did happen, and that was the unbelievable amount of times people said the name Charles Christopher Godden. It was wild! We joked about how you could have a drinking game for every time his name was mentioned and you’d easily be plastered. And it was meant in the least blasphemous way possible. So we danced, ate cake, and headed back down before the rain came.

So the language bible is an exciting and much-welcomed addition to the short list of Ambae language publications. An overall good day, despite the misleading event name!

a little kastom dancin!

tile and error

The last group of volunteers (G25) has found their way home and the new group (G27) comes in January! This makes us, G26, the only Pis Kop Volentias on the archipelago. We started with 30 volunteers and are down to 28. Dane was medically separated and Tony left to return to his fiancé at home. I’ve got confidence that the rest of us are gonna stick around for the next 16 or so months.

The volunteer newspaper, The Van-American (or Van Am for short) was last led by Jess Geraci who was a volunteer on Santo. She passed the torch to my favorite gal Laura, the new editor-in-chief! Woo! This is Laura’s cup of tea. She’s a great writer and an even better organizer, idea maker, and delegator. She asked me to be the illustrator after watching me doodle (…I mean listen attentively and thoroughly, Mom!) throughout pretty much every session of training. It’s just how I pass my time. And now I’m making a paid career out of it! Minus the paid and career part, but it is pretty cool! I get to design the cover and make doodles throughout the newspaper based on what people write. So lots of stick figures and other fancy things, obviously. I think Anastasia is going to help with the real drawings because she enjoys creating more proper art than notebook nonsense. Works for me!

I’ve mentioned that Laura and I write the Failure Report, which consists of entries from different volunteers’ cultural mishaps and f-ups. It’s pretty amusing and is a good reminder that we’re all figuring it out as we go! I decided to write an article about house projects because I enjoy them. The next Van Am comes out when the new biddies arrive, so the article is meant mainly for them. I’m sharing it here because, why not?

Tile and Error

The joys of arts and crafts at site

Crafting. Not to be confused with Krafting, the delicate art of testing the limits of the long term Kraft cheese. Which, by the way, you should look for when buying stuff for site.  A long distance relationship with this diverse and glorious specimen of dairy goodness can be challenging, but this alternative sure does make the wait a little bit cheesier. Go ahead and buy a grater while you’re in town, too - the cheese melts when it’s shredded and it stretches out its use!

So back to crafting! I wouldn’t put myself into the category of humans who need fancy things and a flas’d out house, I just like projects. And I’m one of those people who like to feel at home, really at home, while I’m here – wherever “here” happens to be. It makes me feel good to look around and see a place I’ve created.  My home is my sanctuary and, amidst this kranke ride we’re all buckled into, is the one place I can retreat to… where the only one asking the questions is me. No, I’m not sick. No, it’s not the flu. Yes, I’m sure.

Anyways.  I usually find myself in a tangle of ongoing projects of various lengths and intricacies. Some projects are one and done – the bedside table, the bookcase, the stool. Other projects take a while, such as painting the interior and exterior of the house.  Most of my ventures are on the practical and life-easing side of the spectrum, serving some sort of useful purpose: the chalkboard calendar, a vegetable holding/dish drying /hand washing station extravaganza, the everyday clothesline. But plenty are oozing with non-necessity. Like the women’s restroom sign I painted on my pit toilet or the “don’t postpone joy” sign I nailed to my wall. Or the fun fund piggy bank, though this is arguably necessary.

These silly projects do serve a purpose: they make me happy. They are soul-filling activities that make my days more amusing and gratifying. They make my home a little cozier for those days when the brooding clouds seem to sit right above me, refusing to let the sun shine through. Those days do happen here. For me, arts and crafts make their passing a little more graceful.

My current project is mosaic-ing my walls. I came upon a bunch of free broken tile and thought that it would be an excellent idea to tile my floor. After a few months of letting this idea marinate, Jessie Rae came over to help and we realized it was impossible – unless I never wanted to open any of my doors ever again. Dodged a bullet on that one! So a little creative tinktink led us to today’s project. It’s pretty messy and time consuming, but why not? Why not fill my island time with the sweet melodies of String Cheese Incident and the chaotic attempts of an ancient craft? Sounds like my kinda afternoon.

I feel like this one is gonna be a lingerer. Wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t finish it before my service is up. I’m already envisioning its extensions – the crafts within a craft – murals and quotes and borders. Oh my! I recently broke my big mirror when falling out of a headstand. 7 years bad luck? Or 7 years mosaic-ing broken glass into my little cottage? Shell half full! Or whole full… drink up!

What I’ve come to find is that it doesn’t matter if there are a couple (a lot) of paint driblets on my floor. Or if I had to flatten some nails on my bench because I overlooked the cause and effect of nailing the wood upside down.  Every time I notice these things, I smile and remember the various messes I’ve found myself in while in Vanuatu. And how much I’ve grown from them and how damn happy I am! This place works wonders. Its magical, but don’t say that to a local. Learn from my mistakes!

In case you’ve never heard anyone say it before, our sites and lives are vastly different from one another’s. Hemi depen, all that jazz. And this couldn’t be truer about our homes and our attitudes towards them. Find a project that works for your space.  If you’re feeling the itch to build or paint or hammer or burn or jump around in circles to your favorite tune, by all means, do yourself a favor and scratch!

Engage in some tile and error and enjoy it.

my mama weaving a mat, her favorite handicraft

not your mama's yoga

How did a nice Jewish gal get caught up in leading bible study? Here’s the secret ingredient to events in Vanuatu: add Jesus to anything and you’ve got instant attendance! I’ve been wanting to teach a women’s yoga class, but wasn’t having an easy time convincing people that it would be a nice weekly gathering. Which is understandable if you think about how busy the mamas are here- tending to the garden, raising children, cooking, cleaning, and all the other little things that add up, but rarely get recognized. The goal of the yoga class would be to bring the women together for an hour of relaxation and focus on their own bodies and minds. So in order for this to come about, I proposed a yoga/bible study mamas group. Tack on 20 minutes of bible stories and wa-la! Everyone’s down to try out some poses.

Explaining and introducing yoga was an interesting challenge. To do this in the limited vocabulary that makes up pidgin Bislama and with women who aren’t usually encouraged to focus on their personal growth made it that much more difficult. But class numbawan went well! We all wore island dresses and tied them up between our legs to create trousers. We laid out woven mats in a classroom and went slow. Although yoga is a spiritual practice, it felt a little taboo connecting it with religious messages. But you know what? It works here. We talk about how our bodies are temples that we should honor. How noble words are powerful, but actions and deeds are much stronger. And that meditation in the heart and mind is the key to inner peace. Okay, fine, so maybe the bible does make a few good points!

Since the first one, I’ve held class every other week or so. Some days only a few women show up. Some classes, a dozen mamas in downward dog! We do poses that focus on back and neck relief, as these women are constantly bending over- building fires, making laplap, washing clothes, and weeding the garden. At the end, I serve orange leaf tea (bring your own mug!) and we storian. The best part is when they come up to me during the week and say how their bodies feel happier. Maybe they are just saying it because it sounds like the right thing to say. Regardless, I think it’s assisting them in some well-deserved self-attention and provides a great place for us to come together as women. Last class I tried something out. I asked them what they think Mama Pose would look like. We all did different poses, which was the point: women fill so many different roles and we each have our own way of looking at ourselves. This activity seemed to resonate with them, encouraging some tea discussion. Baby steps!

beaches of normalcy

passionfruit flower power

vira and moris modeling with the passionfruit

One morning I woke up thinking about the things I’ve gotten used to over the past 10 months. The funny thing about thinking about the things you’ve gotten used to is that you overlook so many other things because they are now normal occurrences of life. Otherwise saying, this list does no justice to all of the other elements of normalcy that I don’t even notice anymore. But, for shits and giggles, here are 10 things I came up with. Enjoy!

1. Reading the sky for the weather. Knowing what corner over the mountain to look to for rain. Trusting, without hesitation, people who say it will rain the next day. Removing my clothes from the line when this happens and not regretting it the next day

2. When it does start to rain, putting all of my buckets out for water collection. Each bucket and bowl has a strategic location in the chance of downpour. Feeling sheer joy when seeing full buckets of clean rain water!

3. Waking up to my puskats crunching rat bones. Having to remove the faces and tails left behind in the morning. Knowing where they hide the tails I don’t immediately find. Having a new connection to the term “rat tail” and being weirdly proud of my animals for their hunting abilities

4. Building a fire once or twice a day. Choosing the correct dry, but not too dry, coconut leaves for kindling. Controlling the strength of my fire depending on what I’m cooking. Slowly getting used to the burning, teary eyes that the smoke brings. Finding out that cooking is not only a favorite part of my day, but also a useful coping method for me

5. Bucket baths. Using less than half a bucket and considering it plenty of water. In Vanuatu, they call bathing “swimming” or “swimswim,” which is something I say now. It just makes sense! And is probably one of those weird pidgin language terms I’ll always say. Another one is saying “sipos” instead of “if.” Fancy!

6. Sitting unfazed in the midst of local language chatter, pretty much all of the time. Learning to read expressions to figure out the tone of the conversation. Making up fake scenarios in my head and getting stared at when I break into laughter. Appreciating the beautiful fact that many of the local languages in Vanuatu are alive and thriving. Cherishing that I get a glimpse into an ancient mother tongue. Learning phrases to better connect with my Ambae community. Shocking oldfala who hear me use vernacular!

7. Naturally making the sounds of exasperation made in Vanuatu… “Awo!” “Awe le le” “Cas” “Hmm hm hm” “Maaaan” and randomly saying things like “Curry” and “Kakae” and “Honest” (non-silent H) to express disbelief. I’ve even found myself with a slang of my own- turning “Maaan” into “Maaanday Tuesday” which just pours out of my mouth as if I’ve been saying it my whole life

8. Shaking hands with every person I pass, telling them where I have been and where I am heading. In turn, asking them the same questions and being genuinely interested in their answers. Always assuming I call them either uncle, anti, mami, dadi, bumbu, brotha or sista if we are in North Ambae. Enjoying this interaction!

9. Knowing the different stages of baby fright. I’ve defined this by <4 months means they are okay with me, 4 months-1 year means they are afraid of me and cry, and 1-2 years means they are also afraid of me and cry. Anything past 2 years is a wild card. I make a lot of babies cry. It’s the white skin thing.

10. Sweating. I forgot about sweating when it was “winter” and I slept with a blanket! Now it’s November and I spend most of my time sweating. Or in prettier terms, purifying and detoxing my body. I can confidently say that this makes swimming (both with the bucket and in the sea) the most satisfying sensation in the world.

There you have it! 10 things that are perfectly normal to my current self. The phrase in Bislama is “Laef i olsem” or “Life is like that” or that this just the way it is!

bath house visitor

fill er up!

Food on the mind, food all around, as usual

Right now, the in-season fruit trifecta is taking place: mango, watermelon, and pineapple! Hundreds of them, everywhere! Cut them up with a little year-round pawpaw and banana and you’ll be enjoying the best fruit salad. Add coconut milk or honey for a sweet new year!

You know what else is in season? Beef! For some reason, butchering buluk is in. I’ve gotten local meat the past 4 times I’ve been to town. This means family burger night every time! The fam thinks it’s hilarious and delicious. We’ve had ranch burgers and dale’s sauce burgers, both equally scrumptious. Burgers should always be described with outlandish words such as scrumptious, mouthwatering, and simply delectable.

My newest goal is to figure out a way to make “Cheeseburger in Paradise” happen. I need to learn how to make pickles, and I’ll be much closer to realizing this dream. Substitute Chinese cabbage for lettuce, the weird sweet tomato sauce at the store for Heinz 57, and a luke warm Tusker for the cold draught beer, and we’ve got it! A second year project for sure.

As for bush kitchen cuisine, I’ve really been treating myself. Cooking has been a relaxing, enjoyable part of my days here! Some of the stuff I’ve been whipping up lately – island pizza, dessert pizza, tomato soup, eggplant parmesan, kumala (sweet potato) hash browns, tuna melt pizza, all kindsa tacos and salsas, and now that avocado is creeping back into season, plenty of guacamole everything!

tuna melt pizza

snuck a bite, couldn't wait! so tasty

mediterranean carrot tacos

One unfortunate thing I have come to discover is the existence of flour mites. Little crawlers living in your flour! I pick most of them out, but I’ve gotten used to the crunch they add.

One morning I woke up to my dad roasting a small pig. Breakfast, no big deal! My brother made a brush out of a piece of wood and coated the pig with the dale’s sauce my grandmother’s friend sent me in a love gift! I’ve never been much of a pig eater, but fresh local meat really shouldn’t be turned down. Here’s some early morning pictures from the breakfast roast!

7 am pig roast 

papa manning the pig station

o'brien made a brush from a barau branch! 

flavor time

my sweet mama

 children of the corn!

some octoberings

The first Saturday of October, the day after I went to the 40 day dead of Bumbu Mata, Jessie Rae came to stay with me for a night. We had plans to tile my floor because I had found some free tile during my trip to Santo. Jessie Rae is a jack of all trades, an arguable master of many. Of course tiling is on that long list, so she offered to help get me started. A bonus to the help is having a great friend visit for a day or two! My parents (and most of east Ambae) think Jessie Rae is the funniest human around, so they love having her around to storian.

It was a rainy, chilly weekend, but that was just fine and dandy! Can’t really complain about full rain tanks and overflowing buckets after a long dry winter, so I won’t. Plus, rainy and chilly create the perfect scenario for a hot springs soak, which we sure did. Not sure how I got so lucky to have a beautiful hot spring tide pool in my backyard, but it sure does make the rainy, chilly days that much better! That evening, we ate some island pizza and poured mulled wine while it poured outside.

steamy bliss

Island Pizza:
Make two pizza doughs, put the first one on the pan with olive oil underneath. Add your toppings – capsicum, garlic, onion, tomato, and mushroom. And some seasoning – za’atar if you’ve got any, simply because it makes the finest island pizza around. Cover the pan and cook over the fire (medium flames, but not roaring) for 15 ish minutes. Squeeze the coconut milk over the pizza, cover, and cook for another 10 or so. Uncover and let the dough crisp for 5 minutes, remove and cover to keep hot. Next is…

Dessert Pizza:
Re-oil the pan. Lay out dough numbatu and add your toppings – bananas, coconut shavings, and Milo cocoa mix. Cook, add the coconut milk, cook some more, and remove.

Enjoy in whatever order makes you happiest!

a smoky island pizza

On Sunday we got to work on the big bad tile floor project. Except we realized that it wasn’t going to work – my floor isn’t flat or even (or anything closely related to those two adjectives) and, to make things more interesting, the doors would be jammed open if we laid tile! So we brainstormed for a bit and decided to start mosaic-ing the bottom half of my walls. It’s going to be a long project, but pretty relaxing and looks cool as shit. Long live arts and crafts! I decided to write an article about it in the Van Am, our volunteer newspaper. I’ll post it in another entry. By the end of the day, I was feeling quite sick and my papa walked Jessie Rae to the shortcut to meet her waiting husband. This began the 6 day blackout journey of stomach sickness, a tale of toilet treks and sorrow. The origin unknown, but can most likely be traced back to the ded I went to—there’s really no telling who or what passed this stomach bug to me, but it happened! I called myself a kiaman (liar) but had to keep reminding myself that this, too, shall (and did) pass. Back to that in a sec!

Once a year, the safety and security budget pays for a consolidation party for island mates. Because of natural disasters and other unpredictable events, Peace Corps wants us to practice coming together on short notice. It’s supposed to be a surprise so that each volunteer must quickly find reliable transportation, charter the truck to the consolidation point and stay there for the night. But! We actually got to choose our consolidation weekend, so that took half the fun out of it. But who am I kidding, this way is much easier. Reliable transportation on Ambae is about on par with ice cream on the island – every once in a while it’s available, but don’t hold your breath. Now that I type it out like this, it’s a little frightening! The ice cream part, I mean.

Our consolidation happened the second weekend in October. This was at the tail end of my 6-day solo expedition, consisting only of trips to and from the toilet. Quite the adventure! Bed was basecamp and my pit toilet was just what it sounds like. Can’t really fancy up the image there. Thank goodness for green coconuts! Because they sure beat ORS packets when it’s the only thing you’re consuming for a week. I’m not sure what upset my inner workings so badly, but I’d prefer it to stay away.

I will proudly say that my toilet timing was quite accurate – not once did I have any slip ups, even though it felt like all forces of the cosmic universe were rooting for that. I cannot, however, say that the same thing worked out in November. After a week of weak bel syndrome, I should have seen it coming… the tummy gurgles, the belly rumbles, the long squats over my beloved pit toilet. However, one idle Friday morning, I was totally unprepared to be initiated into the much-coveted age old society. I, Alison Terez Levin, pooped my pants. It wasn’t as horrifying as I would have imagined. It probably would have been light years worse if I had decided to follow a truck into town for pay day instead of waiting for my parents to finish up work before heading in. On the truck! In a shop! Away from the safety of my little world that consists of cottage, toilet, swimhouse, and bush kitchen! I’m shuddering in fear just thinking of it. Good thing I get along with myself and am pretty good at keeping secrets. Haha, or maybe not. This one is too ridiculous not to share! Sometimes you just have to surrender to this wild ride and laugh with yourself. Sorry Dami, but I hope you’re laughing a little bit, too. Shit happens!

I felt like casually inserting the above story has helped lower the shock of hearing it. Why not leave it out so that your 3-7 readers can go about their day without a wince, cringe or recoil? It needed to be shared. It begged to be shared! You must celebrate these things! My friend Dave said that when we head into Vila next week, we’ll buy each other a drink for both being new inductees. What a shameful, lonely world this would be without friendship!

So back to consolidation weekend! I hesitated going to town because I was still a slave to the pit toilet, but Sydney convinced me that it would lift my spirits, and she was right. I got to town and dropped my stuff off at Tui Lodge, one of the 4 guesthouses in Saratamata. They are all pretty simple, but at 30 bucks a night, Tui Lodge is by far the nicest! Cement walls in permanent structures, a big kitchen with stove and full gas tank, and water seal toilets! The place is covered in vines and flowers and has a nice cozy feel to it. I opened some letters and a package I received from home. The combination of antibiotics and hearing from a wonderful friend from home started turning my day around. Did I mention that friendship is a cure-all?

I went down to Lemus Store and sat with Jessie Rae as she and her counterpart passed out blue ribbons and info cards for World Mental Health Day. Most people in Vanuatu have been bombarded with enough aid orgs and NGOs to have heard the spiel on washing your hands and brushing your teeth, but many of the problems are much deeper than primary health. I’ve mentioned the domestic and child abuse, the defined gender roles, the pressures to become “civilized,” the corruption, and other elements of living in a developing country… And it seems that there is a huge disregard for how impactful these things are. Swept under the rug or woven mat or whatever you’ve got. This method of dealing with mental health sounds familiar to how we look at it back at home, too. Lolowai Hospital has a mental health wing and according to Jessie Rae, it is visited more often than you’d think. One of Jessie Rae’s main goals here is promoting positive mental health –spreading the word about mental health, that it’s not a disease or problem, but a state of being. Making sure we place as much emphasis on being healthy mentally as physically. Hey, sounds like an important message for all of us!

So I sat with Jessie and Bev as people’s eyes lit up at hearing them describe mental health, as if this concept couldn’t have been more relevant to their lives. One grandmother from Michelle’s village was blown away and said she’s seen signs of some mental health issues in her communty. They are organizing a workshop up in the village for next month! People were interested in learning how the collective mental health of a village affects the individual mental health as well. Although I was feeling horribly sick and useless, these interactions shifted my attitude. Thank you, World Mental Health Day and all of its allies!

Most of the day was spent relaxing. Sydney, Michelle, Jessie, Rae, Nathan, and I got settled and made some dinner. I didn’t partake in the eating, but enjoyed the company nonetheless! Nathan is an expert burger preparer, so I was bummed to miss out. My bel was grateful for my decision and thanked me passively by only dragging me to the toilet a few times that evening!

On Saturday we went swimming in the ocean and were lazy most of the day. Sydney hopped a truck back to site, Michelle stayed with family, and I went to Jessie Rae and Nathan’s for the rest of the weekend! A fun coupla days with good people. I headed back to site on Monday feeling much better than I had the week before. Back to work!

snooze town usa

a boredomless pit

cut open a papaya and this is whatcha get!

October 26th meant that I hit the 9 month mark. Could have created, grown, and born a baby somewhere on this cluster of islands. Please feel free to take a deep sigh of relief, because that absolutely has not happen. But it coulda!

One thing you say here when people ask either A. why you are single, B. if you want to marry man-Vanuatu, specifically his or her son, or C.  why you don’t have babies yet, you say “Mi no gat taem” or I don’t have time. This cracks them up! And it’s the truth. Rumi happens to put it (like many points he makes) quite nicely: “And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?” Well it’s happening now, right this very instant, and I’m enjoying as much me time as humanly possible. We get along great and haven’t gotten sick of each other yet. I was thinking about this the other day and came to the realization that I haven’t felt boredom since being at site. That is an amazing thing! Just by enjoying myself, I have completely surpassed the feelings of dullness and monotony. Life is far too amazing for that! Even the mundane days have lessons and laughter hidden within them. So i tru tumas, mi no gat taem lo wan man o stap kam bod! Laef i swit we swit!

Here are a few great quotes on being alone:

“Learn to be alone and to like it. There is nothing more freeing and empowering than learning to like your own company” –Mandy Hale
“Do not look for a sanctuary in anyone except yourself” –The Buddha
“The greatest thing in the world to know is how to belong to oneself” –Michael de Montaigne
“The best teacher you’ll ever have is the one singing and dancing in your heart” –Mark Stephens
“Language has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone” –Paul Tillich
“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you” –Jalaluddin Rumi

I’ve got a pretty extensive quote journal going. Favorites from books and other places where good words can be found. It is both fun and comforting to come back to it and ponder on the wise words people have said and someone felt the need to write down. And to think of all the wonderful conversation that floats away with the breeze. Which is just as good a way to go, if you ask me!