The video below shows the building project we have been working on the past several months in the village. It was a really big project that involved the entire community working together to expand our community hall and repair the woman's house. Thank you to all the supporters who donated to the Peace Corps Partnership Program which funded the project, everyone here is very, very appreciative!

A lot is happening here and all at once.

The construction project to build the extension to our community hall and women's house is drawing to an end. Will be sure to post some pics online, but after months of hard work it looks pretty nice. Cement floors have replaced the dirt and coral stones, copper walls have been taken out and exchanged with hand woven bamboo. Have almost finished installing a solar light system with the assistance of a very knowledgeable local man. The opening party for this building is scheduled for the end of the month.

My main assignment to create a local government council consisting of leaders from multiple villages is nearly finished as well. Tomorrow we launch the council in the village and I will try not to bore all the VIP government visitors with my 50 page community profiling report and Powerpoint presentation.

This Friday I perform at the biggest music festival in the South Pacific called "Fes Napuan". Will be rapping in pidgin Bislama with a local reggae group that has a very nice Damian Marley like sound. Anyhow, the performance should be televised and broadcasted via radio across the Pacific. Have been practicing this week and last week for the big show. It should also be streamed live on the internet (if you can figure out the time difference for the Pacific), go to http://festnapuan.org/ for more information. (My artist name is Tribal Chant / Nawarake.)

Soccer season is in full swing. I scored a goal on Saturday even though my team lost 2-1. The police force just supplied our team with a brand new lawn mower which is quite nice for maintaining our field through an aid program I have been applying for the past few months.

And finally, I return to the village today with some Peace Corps staff to attend a community meeting involving the recent child molester. The man is now in prison awaiting his court hearing this Friday and the police returned last week to carry some more statements from village children. Learned some very terrible details by reading a few of the boy's statements.

Anyhow in a bizarre twist, the local man who was hosting the child molester in his yard threatened to fight both myself and the teacher who reported the case to the police. It's my personal belief that he is just trying to save face by pretending to be angry at someone else as he now claims the child molester is a good Christian and that the teacher and I are responsible for imprisoning him. (This man has a son that was molested yet never bothered once to speak with the police or read any statements offered by other victims.)

Once again, I bare witness to what kind of odd situations a lack of education can create. Anyhow, the entire village is on my side and the man who has threatened both myself and the teacher will have to pay a fine to myself and the teacher and apologize in front of the community.

Crazy times....

Upon returning to the village Thursday evening, I interviewed some children with concerned parents and heard some disturbing stories involving the strange "white man" visitor molesting some young boys on several occasions.

I resisted a strong urge to confront the man that night. A group of young men approached me wanting to form a group and fight the man. I talked them down, explaining that if we fought the man, he most likely would run away before the police had a chance to question him. A school teacher had already reported the case to the police and we were told that some officers would arrive the following morning to investigate.

I drank a big shell of kava to make myself sleep, otherwise I would have spent the night angry and tempted to confront the man. I awoke at 3AM, tossed and turned thinking about situation in the village and arose from bed deciding that it would be impossible to sleep.

The police questioned the children intensively from 10AM - 3PM. At first they denied everything, changing their stories, but a local man told the children that if they lied, they too would be sent to jail. Afraid of being sent to prison, around ten young boys offered their testimony.

Many parents were surprised to hear their stories. Apparently the "white man" had been attending Bible studies at a local church and the pastor had even proclaimed him to be a good Christian.

The police took all of our statements and took the man into their custody for questioning. He will be held for up to 2 weeks in jail until a judge reviews the case and evidence and decides to set bail. I hope that the man pleads guilty so that the village children are not dragged into a courtroom to prolong this whole mess.

Last Thursday, a strange "white man" from New Zealand was dropped off on my doorstep by a village bus driver. I was in the midst of a training session with our football club when I was informed that "a friend" had arrived and was waiting for me. So believing that an aquaintance had come to visit, I left training and approached our village bus to discover that a complete stranger was waiting for me.

He appeared to be a bit of a hippie. Our rural village is not really accustomed to tourists or overnight visitors, so his arrival was a surprise for us. The visitor informed me that he had been travelling throughout Vanuatu for several weeks and that someone in Port Vila had recommended that he spend a few nights in our village. He then found a bus to take him to our village and the driver simply delivered him to the doorstep of the only resident "white man", a.k.a. myself. I intended to offer him my host family's thatch roof house which is currently empty but he in. However, the visitor stated that he preferred to sleep in his own tent because of mosquitoes.

I returned to football practice assuming that the visitor would set up his tent on one of the nearby beaches but later discovered that locals had helped him set up directly outside of my front door. Locals had shown him my bathroom and shower and told him to help himself.

After a few discussions with the visitor, I decided it would be best to avoid him. I learned that this Kiwi has been wandering around the world for many years now, working odd jobs to survive and depending on the kindness of strangers. He proceeded to wander all over the village, performing magic tricks, reading Bible passages and asking for locals to give him mangoes. On Friday, he complaining of being hungry so I gave a few eggs to a friend and asked him to prepare lunch for the man.

He told some strange stories, one of surviving a mountain lion attack on a jogging trail in the USA by wielding a pocket knife and another of his neighbor in Australia attempting to murder him. I got a strange vibe from him and my friends in the village laughed when I complained about the man.

I locked my toilet and shower when I left the village to go play football in town over the weekend intending to send a subtle hint to my uninvited guest. When I returned home, the strange hippie had moved his tent into another yard. I considered myself lucky and hoped the uninvited guest would travel to the next village soon.

And then the disturbing revelations came.

On Monday morning while walking through the village in the early morning, I learned that around 5 or 6 young boys had slept with the strange man in his tent. I informed the parents in the area that is not good to trust one's children with complete strangers. Even if this man is innocent from committing any serious offences, his actions were certainly inappropriate.

I left for town on business only to receive an update via text message yesterday from an angry local. He informed me that the strange visitor had gone swimming naked with the young boys.

Anyhow, maybe this man is an innocent hippie and or maybe he is indeed a child predator, but either way I am returning to the village this afternoon to have the chiefs force him to leave as quickly as possible. If I find out he has abused any of the local kids I will be reporting him to the police immediately.

It's not all smooth sailing in our tropical paradise....

On Monday morning

Click on the link below to see photos from the islands of Futuna, Aneityum, Tanna and Efate

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.564896237009.2053548.75800509&l=b3d36e4249&type=1

After completing my holiday tour in the south of Vanuatu, I returned to my village where the locals were in the midst of our latest community scandal. Apparently a young man had been "stealing" another man's wife many times over the past year. To make matters worse, the young philanderer has impregnated the woman he was having an affair with.

The young philanderer has a girlfriend of his own that he has lived with for years- and the couple have a 3 year old child. So it was a shock to the community that this young man was caught cheating on his long-term girlfriend. A boy actually discovered the young man with the other woman in the act somewhere in the dark outskirts of the village.

The young man is from the island of Malekula but lived in my village after he began seeing his local girlfriend years ago. We played on the same football team. The woman he was "stealing" is from our village as well, but her husband is from the island of Tanna, an island that is perhaps unjustly reknowned for fighting as a means of settling disputes.

The man from Tanna was devastated after hearing the news. Especially since his family had adopted the young man from Malekula and provided him with food and shelter, he felt as if his trust had been violated. He along with his brothers marched straight for the boy from Malekula, who had been hiding in another family's kitchen ever since his affair had been exposed the previous night. They dragged him onto the main village road and began beating him.

The man from Tanna and his brothers took turns beating the young man from Malekula. They gave him black eyes and split his lips, blood flowed freely from the young man's nose, ears and around his eyes. Some village boys stopped the fight quickly after it started but found it hard to restrain the man from Tanna who vowed that he wanted to kill the young man.

Later in the afternoon, the head chief of the village held an emergency meeting about the scandal. The young philanderer was fined a cow, kava and mats and around $500 to be paid to the chief's, his girlfriend's family and the man from Tanna whose wife he "stole". The man from Tanna and his brothers were charged $300 each for fighting inside of the community. The "stolen" woman was fined also for being involved in an affair. Finally the chiefs ruled that the young man from Malekula must leave the village with his girlfriend, he would no longer be allowed to live in our community.

I returned to the village the night before the young philanderer's departure. The community threw a large goodbye party for the young man and his girlfriend. It felt strange eating cake and drinking kava in honor of such unusual and uncommendale actions. But then again I am always looking for an excuse to eat cake and drink kava.

The island of Futuna does not receive many visitors or tourists. There is no phone service for much of the year, a cargo ship carrying supplies arrives once a year if fortunate and many locals do not speak the national pidgin language of Vanuatu. Instead of warm greetings when arriving in a village, many locals would shuffle off the road at the site of me and small children would cry thinking that they had spotted a "white devil".

The island itself is not typical of Vanuatu. It is an extinct volcano whose steep 600 meter climb juts violently out of the South Pacific. Commuting from one village to the next involves climbing up and down sheer cliff faces of several hundred meters. Going to the garden is very dangerous for locals, should they slip while carrying their heavy bag of manioc, death or serious injury is a possibility.

A project to improve the island's footpaths funded by the goverment has been ongoing since 2004. Railing has been installed shielding pedestrian from trecherous falls, ladders have been bolted in the sides of mountain walls and cement walkways have made access in rounding Futuna much easier. I marveled to see the amount of work involved in upgrading the footpaths on Futuna. Tons and tons of cement has been carried manually up and down mountain sides, as trucks or even horses would be incapable of moving far on this island.

I stayed with the family of my former next door neighbor from Aneityum. After my hosts warmed to me, their shyness gradually faded. The people of Futuna are kind, but complain about the diffulties they face on their island. Kava is sent by plane twice a week to the island and local men fight to have a shell or two. Within 10 minutes of my arrival, old men were inquiring to my young host as whether or not I had tobacco with which to share with them. After informing them that I was not a smoker, they exchanged irritated faces and hobbled offwards, presumably having no more use for me.

Futuna is blessed with very rich aquatic resources. There is not much of a coral reef, rather the ocean drops off to drastic depth close by the island. But selling fish and lobster to the community fisheries project is the main source of income. I ate fish every day on Futuna and left the island with one of the largest lobsters I have ever seen.

It was an interesting 4 night stay. Many good photos from climbing to the very top of the dormant volcano and from the half-day trek around the island. The muscles in my legs definitely ached from the constant climbing, jokingly I referred to the locals as wild "nanny-goats" as people from Futuna share a similar lifestyle to those mountainous animals.

After spending 9 months straight on the island of Efate, I was beginning to become a bit stir crazy. One work project after another left your favorite under-appreciated volunteer craving some rest and relaxation. So to escape from the stresses of work- I decided to take a trip south, to visit Futuna for the first time and to be reunited with old friends on the islands of Aneityum and Tanna.

I travelled to Aneityum first, my previous home for 2 and half years. It felt good to see some familar faces once again, but unfortunately my trip coincided with a time of grieving on the island. A local politician who I knew very well and who was extremely supportive of my work on Aneityum, passed away 2 days before my arrival. This councilor was around 50 years old but had a certain heart condition that left him under strict doctor's orders not to drink alcohol/kava, smoke or eat certain foods. Sadly, over the Independence Day celebration he ignored the doctor's warnings and drank, which many believe caused his stroke. My first few evenings on Aneityum were spent sitting with his relatives in the nakamal, where we shared kava and dinner in rememberance of the late Area Councilor.

A week after the Councilor's passing, 2 other locals died. One mentally challenged ten year old girl whose dress caught on fire in the kitchen and badly burned her and a woman who died during child birth in Port Vila. Needless to say it was a sad time for the island and all the families gathered together again to eat together and mourn for several more days.

Tourism has really increased on the island since my departure. Aneityum was recently cleared as a Port of Entry for yachts entering the country. So 4 or 5 different multi-million dollar yachts were anchored in the main harbor each day. My host father Kolin has undergone training to become a Custom's Officer. Being a genuinely warm person he was often the recipient of a new pair of sunglasses or a hat that generous yachties would give to him.

On the three cruise ship visits that I witnessed during my vacation, a massive P&O cruise liner would dump several thousand tourists on Mystery Island for a few hours. On these days, Kolin would board the ships to give a departure clearance before the cruise liner was permitted to go to the next destination. His visit to the ship allowed him to join the tourists having lunch at the buffet and he would report back to me on what new and interesting "white man" dishes he had sampled that day. I highly recommended he try "pizza" when the next cruise ship visits and he sincerely took note of my sage advice, asking me to repeat the name "pizza" a dozen times until he had the name properly memorized.

It was interesting to observe the cash flow of Australian and New Zealand dollars into the community. 5 years olds would flaunt fresh 20 dollar bills around the village, their share of the earning after a few hours of singing church songs. My friend John's 6 year old son followed me to the store where I was shocked to watch him pull out ten dollars and buy the cookies and lollipops of his choosing.

I ate lots and lots of fresh, delicious fish. Went trolling in a small boat where I spotted the first humpback whales I have ever seen in the wild where and we caught a large wahoo provided us with lunch, dinner and breakfast the following day. Went fishing with a light weight tackle rod my sister and brother-in-saw mailed me and caught 4 large "trevally", a tasty "mustache fish" and a 3 and half foot long, skinny, mysterious looking fish that was also delicious when fried. I ate lobster and turtle and sat down at many a meal that old friends had prepared especially for me.

We walked around the island sleeping in the more remote Port Patrick for several days. Local chiefs had recently lifted a ban on fishing in certain areas of the reef. The fish in these areas were not afraid of people as they are in other places. John was able to use his casting net to walk right up to large schools of blue fish. Within a half hour on the reef we collected a basket full of fish and giant clams that difficult to carry back to the familes that were hosting us.

In the village of Umej I was reunited with my old dog Superman, who looked relatively healthy and happy with the exception of having only one eye now. A boy who was angry with Superman's new owner stabbed my former dog in the eye with his knife. Thankfully, Superman's new family took issue with this abuse and the boy was heavily fined by the chief.

Mobile phones have been introduced since my departure from the island as well. It felt odd watching locals use them in a place that had previously been serene and devoid of noisy ring tones. Now most teenagers stare at phones and text incessantly as they strut around the village.

Anyhow it was a good trip and 2 weeks went by too quickly. Will write about my short trip to Futuna for my next entry. Currently, I am on an island called Tanna which has a small shopping district that could perhaps technically qualify for a town. Will be heading into Middle Bush for a few days to see some old friends but will post again on my return.

Lukim yu...

In early February of this year, I was asked to join a committee of volunteers and staff that would be organizing the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps. Every Peace Corps country around the world received around $5000 each, to spend in a manner of their own choosing to commemorate the big anniversary. So being a part our Peace Corps Vanuatu committee, I proposed we make a DVD using local artists to promote the work of volunteers within the country.

Working with a local friend that is a cameraman, we arranged interviews in numerous villages, collected photos and videos from volunteers all over the islands, paid for local bands to record songs at studios in town and then shot their music videos. So I have been very busy the past few weeks putting in the final touches, editing into the late nights to make sure we were ready for the 4th of July launch date...

Anyhow, we will be posting the entire video on YouTube throughout the next few weeks. Here are the links for the first four segments for your viewing pleasure...

Ambergris or "whale vomit" is highly sought after here in Vanuatu and some businessmen offer large sums of money to locals who luckily stumble upon the substance in coastal areas. It is hard to recognize as "whale vomit" is undistinguishable from stones to the untrained eye. The first time I saw a notice on the island offering cash payment for "whale vomit", I was highly amused to say the least, assuming that it had to be some sort of practical joke.

The following content below comes from Wikipedia:

Ambergris occurs as the secretion of the intestines of the sperm whale and can be found floating upon the sea, or in the sand near the coast. It is also sometimes found in the abdomens of whales. Because the beaks of giant squids have been found embedded within lumps of ambergris, scientists have theorised that the substance is produced by the whale's gastrointestinal tract to ease the passage of hard, sharp objects that the whale might have eaten.

Ambergris is usually passed in the fecal matter. Ambergris that forms a mass too large to be passed through the intestines is expelled via the mouth, leading to the reputation of ambergris as primarily coming from whale vomit. Ambergris can be found in the Atlantic Ocean and on the coasts of Brazil, Madagascar, the East Indies, the Maldives, China, Japan, India, Australia, New Zealand and the Molucca islands. Most commercially collected ambergris comes from the Bahamas in the Caribbean, particularly New Providence

Ambergris has been mostly known for its use in creating perfume and fragrance much like musk. While perfumes can still be found with ambergris around the world, American perfumers usually avoid it because of legal ambiguities. It was banned from use in many countries in the 1970s, including the United States, because its precursor originates from the sperm whale, which is an endangered species. However, it has been legal since 2005 because of strict monitoring of distributors who ensure that only ambergris that has been naturally washed to shore is sold.

Ancient Egyptians burned ambergris as incense, while in modern Egypt ambergris is used for scenting cigarettes. The ancient Chinese called the substance "dragon's spittle fragrance". During the Black Death in Europe, people believed that carrying a ball of ambergris could help prevent them from getting the plague. This was because the fragrance covered the smell of the air which was believed to be the cause of plague. This substance has also been used historically as a flavouring for food, and some people consider it an aphrodisiac. During the Middle Ages, Europeans used ambergris as a medication for headaches, colds, epilepsy, and other ailments.

I ran a youth leadership camp this week with the help of 5 other Peace Corps Volunteers. 29 girls and 18 boys from two nearby villages attended the youth camp for 3 days. There were lessons and activities covering topics such as leadership development, decision making, gender equality, planning and goal-setting, healthy relationships, diabetes, STI's and family planning.

Throughout the camp there were sport, game and worship sessions- so that workshop participants did not sit glassy-eyed inside of a classroom all day. We volunteers ate and slept at the local Primary School with the youth as well, allowing us get to know all of the boys and girls.

Anyhow, holding a camp of this sort requires a lot of planning. Throughout the past few weeks I had been rallying community support at local church meetings and on village work days, raising money for food and workshop supplies, and recruiting volunteers to assist with transport, collecting firewood, providing sleeping / toilet / shower arrangements, donating food and cooking, etc. After weeks of planning, I felt comfortably prepared for the start of the workshop.

And as these things often go, my careful planning was tossed to the wayside with the unscheduled arrival of a pastor and 200 of his loyal followers who I refer to as the Poison Crusade. This "pastor" is from a northern island and his specialty is finding poison, or black magic. It is believed by many that through prayer and a strong connection to the Holy Spirit, this pastor can find black magic artifacts deposited by ill-intentioned locals. His arrival to my village 2 days before the start of my youth workshop meant that the community had the burden of another 200 mouths to feed daily in the addition to 70 I had been planning to host for weeks.

We had to find new accommodation, food supplies and a workshop venue all at the last possible moment. Things were very hectic but a large portion of my community really bent over backwards to make our camp successful. The Minister of Youth and Sport came and presented soccer uniforms and balls to the boys at the closing ceremony and a very popular politician who is currently the Minister of Justice came to present certificates as well. I was happy with the turnout even though it felt like we were competing with the Poison Crusade throughout much of the youth camp.

The Poison Crusade blares loud religious music through an amped up sound system until midnight each night and then a loud bell begins morning prayer at 3:30 AM when the sound system is turned on again until 6 AM each morning. Apparently it is believed that praying in the dark hours of the early morning and at loud decibels is more efficient than praying in the daytime. My house is located in the middle of all of the madness where the caravan of trucks park and additional hundreds from outside villages commute in for evening praise services, where the pastor perform miraculous acts of healing on the sick.

The youth workshop was located nearby the Poison Crusade so obviously we did not sleep very well over the 3 days. Many boys who should have attended the workshop were lured in to attending the Poison Crusade, possibly because it provided them a chance to hit on the many teenage girls visiting the praise service each evening.

The Poison Crusade is still underway and is scheduled for at least another 5 nights. I escaped this early morning and plan to work here in town on some unfinished projects until its completion. But ending on a good-note... the pastor sniffed around my house yesterday and confirmed that my abode is poison-free, so at least I can sleep soundly upon my return!

This large insect, which looks like a cross between a praying mantis and a walking stick, is appreciated a sweet tasting delicacy by the rural population of Vanuatu. While I have tasted roasted grubs and beetles, the thought of handling, let alone eating this bug frightens me to no end.

The man chopping meat in the photo above has been missing on Aneityum for over three weeks now. It is assumed he is dead now. He was a very familiar face in my village and the entire community is mourning his loss now.

He was last seen drinking kava in the main village of Anelcauhat. After drinking a few shells, he stopped by a local store and bought a can of soda before beginning his 30 minute walk home. The walk to his house is an easy walk, following a sandy beach the entire way. Other men who left the nakamal that night and followed the same path saw no sign of him.

The following day his children became worried when he did not show up. Some villagers believed that perhaps he slept in another house whilst drunk or got up very early before sunrise and went to the garden. One full day passed before some village children found the missing man's pants, with his mobile phone and over $80 in the pocket, along with the unopened can of soda by the side of the river.

It is assumed that he took off his clothes to swim in the river before continuing his walk home. There are some deep pools in the river, but the main crossing is only knee deep. Anyhow, there are theories that perhaps the kava effected him especially hard when he started swimming and he drowned, his body being swept out to sea. Or perhaps that he had a heart attack or stroke. Or even that someone murdered him using black magic.

The community searched for his body, diving in the sea and searching in the bush for 2 and a half weeks. No trace of his body was found. The community formally sat down and started grieving for his loss last week. Only his sons continue searching for his remains.

A woman in my village has become very sick. Instead of going to the doctor in town, her family has taken other forms of action. She has been moved temporarily into the house of a villager known for having strong healing powers of prayer. "Filipino healing crystals," which were probably purchased at one of Port Vila's Chinese stores, are rubbed over her body daily. A older man made custom medicine for her with a special leaf from the bush which was ground into a paste and applied to her skin.

The villagers believe she is sick because someone violated an old taboo by cutting or disturbing "snake rope." Snake rope is a type of vine that grows in the bush. It gnarls and twists and turns and winds its way from the the forest floor to the jungle canopy like a snake, hence the name. Snake rope often grows where bodies are buried or where sacred custom rituals were performed, according to the locals.

Cutting snake rope with your bush knife does not always result in sickness however. If the coastal waters are at low-tide, the "devils" around the snake rope will be down on the reef collecting food. But at high-tide, the devils are around the snake rope and will cause illness and possibly kill anyone who should disturb them.

The symptoms are often swelling of the limbs, head, soreness of the body and red eyes.

Anyhow thought it would be interesting to share their beliefs. I often stress that even if locals want to pray or use custom medicine, it is still good to visit the doctor and see if "white man medicine" can help at all.

In Vanuatu, we fear the tropical hornet when working in the gardens or walking through the bush. Should you disturb their carefully guarded nests, often a group of hornets will sting you without mercy. I have only suffered their wrath on one occasion- and that was enough.

Notice Jimmy's swollen left eye, the result of a painful hornet sting.

When locals encounter them in the garden, they often light a fire on the spot and smoke the hornets out before destroying their nest.

Hello avid blog-readers! Sorry for the prolonged delay in posting, but the tropical lifestyle affects one’s sense of punctuality. Here in Vanuatu, we say that things get done in “Black man time,” which is far from politically correct yet an appropriate term here on the islands.

Anyhow, I want to update any friends and family members (or perhaps generous strangers) reading this about a building project I am working on at the moment. The plan is twofold:

#1- We are repairing a woman’s meeting house and turning it into a community guest house, which will be managed by the village momma’s. The mommas currently do not use the house much because there is no masonite to shield them from the heat radiating down from the copper roofing on sunny days. The windows and doors are broken, the rain tank has fallen apart and wooden posts supporting the structure of the house have rotted. Once we have enough funding we will completely repair the building and provide the momma’s with a great way to earn an income with the first guest house of its kind built in our area.

#2- The adjoining community center (or nakamal) is too small to shelter every villager during weekly community meetings and occasional events held in the village. Women are often excluded from meetings as a result. So villagers have already started a massive effort of expanding the building. There is no lighting inside though and locals often end up meeting in the dark. With project funding we will provide a solar light system to power the entire community center.

This project will make a big impact on the lives of the villagers who I have embraced as friends and family. Donations can be made online via credit card on the Peace Corps website.

The link is:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=461-045

Even a small contribution will be appreciated. Thank you for you support!

(Below: Village mommas that will benefit from the guest house, and the community center expansion underway... Notice the dozen or so villagers hoisting a very heavy hardwood support beam in place!)

Islands in the South Pacific are teeming with rats. They are not really the dirty rats associated with urbans sprawl, these rats live in the dense bush and feed on ripe fruit and food from the gardens. Call them island rats. But that does not make them more enjoyable when they decide to move into your home. When I initially moved into my new home I had at least a dozen rats as roommates. Normally they waited until I was nearly asleep before they started their rat wrestling matches above my ceiling or rat tap dancing on the copper, gnawing on wood behind my wall or knocking over dishes in the kitchen just to annoy me. Repairing the holes to the outside walls of my house, a liberal sprinkling of rat poison and a tiny kitten eliminated the problem for a few months. But throughout this past week, irritating squeaks and gnawing noises have disturbed my sleep at 4 AM like clock work every morning. At 4 AM, I generally lack the resolve to get up and do anything about the noises. But the day before yesterday was different. The rats had gone too far. At 430, armed with a flashlight and machete, I murdered 2 rats that I trapped in my bedroom. Had there been any witnesses, doubtless they would have been entertained by lifting up random objects around the room, having a large rodent dart out lightening fast, me squeal like a girl and stab at it wildly with my machete. Death by a machete is not a pretty way to die, I should mention- and cleaning up the evidence was not a fun way to start my morning. But at least the gnawing noises will no longer disturb my sleep. For a few more months....

The following story is believed by a wide audience in my village. If Peace Corps has taught me anything, it is how to nod along to an out-of-this-world story and pretend like it may be feasible.

A married couple from the island of Paama had tried for many years to conceive but were never fortunate enough to have a child. They did however own a pig.

The pig was a woman pig and it became pregnant. When the pig was about to give birth, it ran away from the house but the married couple followed the pig closely. It went to a large stone and hid underneath it in a deep burrow. The married couple stood outside of the burrow and listened as the pig was delivering its litter.

The woman wanted to see how many piglets the mother pig delivered, so she lit a bundle of dry coconut leaves. She and the man peered down the burrow with their coconut leaf torch but were shocked to see a baby boy! The man used a long, curved tree branch to slowly pry the child out of the pig's burrow. Needless to say, the mother pig was upset that the married couple was trying to steal the human boy it had just given birth to. But the man proceeded to carry the new born infant and wrap it in dry banana leaves. An angry mother pig followed the married couple home as it brought back the baby boy to their house.

Anyhow, long story short- this pig is believed to have magically given birth to a boy (who just recently passed away leaving behind many children). According to custom, this man comes from the traditional line of the wild pig, so it is almost logical to some locals for this phenomenon to have occurred.

I inquired if this man and his family ate pig and was told yes, that they do indeed eat pig. Seems sort of wrong to dine on one's potential relatives though.

The pastor of the "Bible Church" in my village was recently caught in a scandal. This particular pastor is notorious for his brimstone and hellfire sermons, delivered at high volumes while occasionally hitting copper roofing and nearby objects to ensure the attention of the congregation is focused on him at all times. Once I had the extreme pleasure of watching this pastor draw a diagram on a chalkboard showing God and the congregation, and putting his name in the middle as the necessary go-between for all worshippers wishing to communicate with God.

Bible Church does not allow its followers to drink alcohol or kava, although it is rumored that before religion transformed this particular pastor, he was the leading drunkard of his community. The church is based upon the premiss that God has blessed some of the congregation with prophetic powers- and visions and dreams are shared by four or five of the Bible Church prophets every Sunday. Often the dreams detail fish eating other fish or scenes from the garden, which are then translated by the pastor to explain God's message for the congregation.

Anyhow, the pastor was recently caught stealing church money, over $2,500 over the past year, which is quite a bit here. He was forced to submit a letter of resignation and will supposedly have to find a job in Port Vile to repay what money he has misused. Personally I am not very surprised. Just goes to show you that those who speak the loudest are not always speaking from the heart.

The recent earthquake and tsunami that rocked Japan had little effect on Vanuatu. Most of the South Pacific was under a tsunami advisory warning after the disaster, but thankfully we were unharmed.

I was in the capital Port Vila, enjoying an evening by the Sea Front, which is a public park bordering Vila Harbor when concerned locals from my village began calling me around 8 PM. They had heard the news over the radio and began calling to ask my opinion as to whether or not they should evacuate to a higher elevation. After about 6 phone calls, I decided I should probably go to the Peace Corps office and check it out.

At the office, I found news about the tsunami warning online and then heard the Vanuatu Meteorology Department issue a warning until 1 AM specifically for Vanuatu, so I called my village and relayed the information. Almost everyone hiked into the bush and spent the night camping out on hill tops far away from the ocean.

I spent the night in town at a friends house also located safely away from sea. 1 AM came and went without any noticeable events, the ocean current became very strong, but no lives were lost here.

My soccer team was very tired the next day when we played our match in town because all of the players had slept poorly in the bush. But sleepiness is a pretty fair price to pay for one's safety I suppose...

An organized group of thieves recently started breaking into occupied homes in a neighborhood of Port Vila called "Fresh Wota". They steal valuables while the household sleeps, unaware of their presence. It is rumored that they smoke marijuana until fearless, use kastom magic that makes the household residents sleep deeply and then cut window screens and remove glass louvres to enter homes and search for money and other goods. Buses and trucks help them transport stolen goods in the night.

On Wednesday, a 23 year old man who caught the group stealing in his home was stabbed to death with a machete when he confronted the thieves.

I slept on the outskirts of Fresh Wota on Friday night, with a relative of my host mother from the village. I assumed the house would be safe because it is occupied by a professional boxer who has represented Vanuatu fighting in Korea and the Philippines. Discussing the recent crime wave during the day time with him, he informed me that luckily, there had never been any theft in his yard over the past years.

That night I came back from a work function at midnight and went to sleep. The doors of the house were locked upon my arrival. At 3 AM, I was startled from my sleep by a woman's screams. Sleeping deeply, I was very confused. It took around 30 seconds for me to stir as I lay in bed listening, wondering whether the couple I was staying with were having a domestic fight or perhaps if some news had come that a relative had passed away. Alarmed, I arose and opened my bedroom door.

The woman of the house was screaming frantically. She had slept out in the main sitting room, as she and her daughter had been watching television until my late night return and then decided to sleep where they were. She pointed to the window, where the screen had been cut open and the window louvres had been removed. The boxer also had slept deeply and arose from his bedroom at around the same time.

She told us both that she had been awoken by someone using a small flashlight inside of the sitting room. She assumed that it was me, trying to find my way to the bathroom, even though this person was wearing a camouflage jacket, long pants and a hat. She was still half asleep herself and not thinking clearly. The man searched around the room and then opened the bedroom door where her husband, the professional boxer, was sleeping inside. The woman thought that maybe I was drunk and had gone to the wrong bedroom by mistake. When she noticed the intruder go behind the door where a hunting rifle was located, she then knew for certain that the man was a thief and not myself. She began to scream.

The man calmly carried the rifle, stepped over the screaming woman and walked out the back door. He then escaped into the early morning darkness. We called the police at 3:30 AM and they arrived around 9 AM to file a small report. Pretty hair-raising experience for us all considering how a similar incident had resulted in someone's death two days earlier. I am thankful that no one in the house was harmed and also that the thief chose to enter the adjacent bedroom and not my own, where my backpack containing a laptop computer and my wallet were located!

Anyhow, even though Vanuatu is relatively safer than most countries, including the USA, it has its own problems as well.

"Ponani" is the holiday activity held the first few weeks of January every year in Vanuatu. Families or entire villages form groups that travel around by invitation to perform religious songs in honor of the new year. Baby powder is doused liberally on performers, drunken men often circle the group shouting loud inebriated exclamations like "HOORAY" and "HAPPY NEW YEAR" and gifts such as rice, soap and money are given to the Ponani group as a thank you.

I had experienced "Ponani" on Aneityum, but on Efate, it is a much different experience all together.

On Aneityum, family groups perform local language songs together, led by a a guitar gently strumming along while young boys and girls harmonize. It is relatively peaceful with the occasional outburst of a drunken man interrupting the songs.

On Efate, Ponani has transformed entirely. Here, villagers do not stop at baby powder. Flour mixed with water is poured over heads, which clings to your hair and it is impossible to get out without submerging yourself in water. Bright red and blue dye is thrown on faces leaving near permanent stains, which are visible for days afterwards. Grease from trucks, dirty engine oil, ripe papayas mashed up, paint, mud- it is all fair game.

I joined the Ponani group from my village and we traveled by truck on several different late nights and sang all over North and East Efate. In the village of Ekipe, some children even decided to use cow poop as a weapon and smeared it across my right leg. Many boys wore sunglasses to cover their eyes from the irritating baby powder and mommas tried their best to cover their hair with calico cloth. Anyhow, it was an enjoyable few nights but I could have done without the cow excrement.

When one Ponani group performs and is doused with grease and paint- the singers remember well and return the favor whenever that village sends its Ponani group in exchange. It is like a never-ending cycle of retaliation mixed with Christmas carols...

Cyclone Vania recently hit Vanuatu and made for an interesting couple of days here. The preparation for hurricanes in the South Pacific is much different from what takes place in the USA. When the local radio stations begin to issue warnings and storm advisories, many local people refuse to believe that a cyclone would actually affect them. Church going villagers said that God would not possibly send a hurricane their direction because they are faithful Christians. Others saw clear skies and doubted the possibility that conditions could change quickly. Some villagers observed signs in the bush, such as the flight patterns of birds and the direction that banana shoots had grown and either negated or confirmed the storm warnings.

Often, locals do not begin to prepare until gale force winds actually arrive. This was the case in my village. When the winds picked up to around 40 mph, villagers began to climb on their houses to nail down copper sheeting or fasten coconut leaves over their palm leaf roofs.

We started receiving storm warnings for a tropical depression Monday that gradually strengthened to a Category 2 cyclone by Thursday. The copper roofing on my home had not been nailed down, instead pieces of timber were fastened on top- so on Monday I requested that villagers help me nail down the roofing. I was promised that a villager would show up Tuesday or Wednesday to help me, which never happened.

By Wednesday, most of the villagers believed that the storm had gone south and that we would not experience high winds. This was not the case. I did not sleep Wednesday night and early Thursday morning due to unsecured copper roofing slamming up and down on my roof top. At midnight, I climbed on my roof to take down two solar panels. At 3 AM, two pieces of roofing flew off in a major gust and I had to climb up once again to move a piece of copper from my front porch area to cover the gaping hole over my living room where the rain was streaming in. I spent a breathless five minutes on the roof working quickly, afraid that a tree top or rusty flying object would decapitate me.

Luckily one did not.

Anyhow, we made out pretty well on Efate in the long run. Just a few damaged homes and many fallen trees. Further south on Aneityum, the winds were much worse.

"Sick moon" is the term in Bislama for the time a woman has her period or menstruates. A woman's period is regarded as a sickness by much of the local population, even today.

Traditionally on Aneityum, locals built special houses to shelter women going through their periods. Women would gather together, cook for themselves and sleep in the house until their period ended. Today women are still not allowed to cook for others or handle food during their sick moon. If you observe the man of the household cooking, this is often the reason why. Some women still leave their home during their "sick moon" and go sleep with relatives.

One of the oldest villagers on Aneityum is in his mid-nineties now. He credits his longevity to roasting all of his food traditionally over a fire and never allowing his wife to handle his food.

Probably the worst aspect of life in the South Pacific is having to cope with the constant aerial assaults inflicted by flies and mosquitoes.

Flies are everywhere. Literally. They swarm in multitudes so vast that even the most ambitious dare not attempt to reduce their numbers with a fly swatter. Instead we learn to ignore the flies as they crawl all over our bodies. Open sores and scrapes are fly magnets specifically. Should you find yourself without a band-aid, it is best to fasten a leaf over your sore to block the flies. Most of time I do not flinch now, unless the flies should brazenly trespass into my inner ears or my mouth. Then I will instinctively go into a sort of mini-spasm and try to utter something appropriately profane. Food must be guarded by waving a leaf or hand constantly over your plate.

Mosquitos are the real masochists. They feed at all hours of the day, especially during the rainy season. Bug spray works at times, but who wants to be constantly coated in toxic chemicals? Mosquito coils are lit to ward off the enemy, but inhaling the fumes leaves me feeling sick. Sleeping in a mosquito net is a must, but sometimes they penetrate the inner sanctuary of the net as well. When this happens, a harsh buzzing in one's ear will surely spoil a good night's sleep- especially when it is accompanied by a thorough slap to the side of the face when attempting to render the evil mosquito lifeless.

All is well here on Efate.

Work is good but somewhat frustrating. The villagers all seem to like me but the project I am working on is complicated. An aid agency that funded our project initially told my village there would be $150,000 worth of funding. Then the funding mysteriously cut in half- I think around $70,000 actually came to Vanuatu. This money was to fund seven months worth of work for the village, clearing some bush to plant mahogany, white wood and sandalwood trees. A community tree nursery was to be funded and an environmental buffer zone was to be set up, planting indigenous trees along a river to prevent erosion and improve the quality of drinking water. About $30,000 worth of funding is unaccounted for now and two provincial government employees have been fired for "mismanagement."

So with a budget of $30,000 the village attempted to finish all of the required work in three months instead of seven. About 50 % of the work remains to be completed yet government employees showed up last week to announce that the project is officially closed and the funding is now finished.

So anyhow, it is interesting but frustrating to see how local government and even aid agencies mismanage and even steal from poor villages. Not a new story for Vanuatu though. I try to stay positive and organize villagers to march 45 minutes up the steep hillsides to work at the project site, joining them with my machete until my hand is blistered and raw from clearing brush.

Aside from that head ache, I have other work to keep me busy. I will helping my counterpart, the Area Secretary, to travel to different villages in his district and survey the needs of the people, then make a strategic plan of how to use government funds to assist their communities.

I have joined my village soccer team and will be playing in the town league. The local string band wants to make a music DVD and I have agreed to record their next album and assist with filming. Much of my time is devoted to killing rats and roaches that lurk around my new house. I should have solar power in the near future- spent a good chunk of my living allowance on a battery and regulator recently. The villagers have made a list of the entire community- and each day I have breakfast, lunch and dinner with a new family. It was their idea and it is a good way for me to get to know everyone (even if I do miss having more control over my own diet).

That's all for now....

My life has been quite hectic lately. Lot of stories from my trip to Tanna, the Toka ceremony and my last month on Aneityum but I am finding it difficult to compress it all into a blog posting. I think I need a few years to digest all of the recent activity in my life before I can write about it. Maybe I'll write a book when I am middle-aged.

I am moving out to my new home in North Efate today. The communities there seem to be genuinely excited to have a Peace Corps Volunteer. I am happy about my new assignment but at the same time I feel like a traitor to the outer islanders having left my old province.

Yesterday I went to the SHEFA provincial government office and was introduced to dozens of politicians and leaders, most of whose names were cleansed from my memory seconds after shaking hands with them. My new co-workers are a little flashier than what I am used to. They dress professionally, with collared shirts and dress shoes, shiny watches and sunglasses, exchanging witty banter in English to one another. They have more funding and access to aid money- and my new counterpart says they may even provide a solar power system for me along with a bicycle. Today they are transporting me to site in an expensive new pickup truck.

Much different from the simple island setup I had before on Aneityum and it feels a little uncomfortable now, but I'm sure I'll adjust. I'm also in the presence of more Westerners than I am used to and having access to a mobile phone feels strange.

My new job description involves assisting a community forestry nursery, community gardens, protecting conservation areas from unauthorized development by squatters and unscrupulous business men, assisting business development with village councils, and improving water supply systems in 6 different villages. Seems ambitious but I will try my best to assist my new community.

Anyhow- I won't be in town for a little while, I want to take some time to get to know these new villagers and settle in my home. Catch up with you all when I can...

I have officially left my site on Aneityum and will be based on the island of Efate now. It was hard saying goodbye to the friends and families that I have lived with for the past two years.

The following link contains photos from my last few weeks in TAFEA province, including photos from the Toka ceremony on Tanna that I recently went to...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2044921&id=75800509&l=24c623dac6

The Toka ceremony on Tanna was postponed for a week by the local chiefs, so this gave me some extra time to explore the island. I decided to go visit a remote area located directly next to the Mt. Yassur volcano called White Sands.

I left "Black Man Town" or Lenekel, the provincial capital, on a pickup truck owned by a local tourist operation. I rode in the back of the truck wedged in between tourist suitcases and bags of rice and local produce, inhaling a steady stream of dust and gyrating along at high speeds on a very bumpy road. I was in the back corner of the cab, where I firmly gripped onto railing along the right hand side, in case the abused latch in the back should give way. A girl from Aneityum, her grandmother and the girl's week-old infant sat on a bench directly in front of me bouncing along. It was a precarious way to travel with a new born child, the grandmother gripped onto the truck railing with one hand and shielded the bundled baby in her bosom with the other. She had asked the local man in the front passenger seat to change places with her so the baby could sit safely inside. The man refused. Having waited two hours in the hot sun already, they decided to jump on the truck anyway in order to reach White Sands before nightfall. Three French tourists sat inside the truck in the back seat, clicking their cameras out the window as we sped along.

The truck dropped us off at the road leading to White Sands instead of taking us to directly to the village itself. I paid the driver for our fares and successfully refrained from directing obscene language in his direction. The truck sped off and left us in middle of the volcano's shadeless ash plain, the hot sun ray's reflecting upwards from the black ash. Luckily, I had packed lightly throwing only a few shirts in my pack, so I was able to carry the heavy suitcase and luggage for the grandmother and young girl. The baby cried several times as we walked the remaining five kilometers, pausing under the occasional banyan tree so she could breast feed.

The grateful grandmother led me to where I would be staying after we dropped off her granddaughter. The pastor of the local Presbyterian Church is from Aneityum, his son John is my good friend and neighbor. Pastor Fred and his wife welcomed me to their modest home, whose wooden floors had been demolished decades ago by Hurricane Ursa and rebuilt with the same timber. I slept there for four nights.

The White Sands area is so close to the volcano that the ground shakes day night as Mt Yassur sends mounds of spewing lava rocketing up to 100 meters into the air. The locals are used to it. I certainly was not. The volcano is not currently very active but it was earlier in the year when tourists were forbidden from climbing to the summit and White Sands was covered by falling ash. I had the pleasure of shoveling out grimy ash and muck that had accumulated in the pastor's uncovered rain tank over the past six month with a group of church elders. When the rain tank was cleaned, we filled it with water for the pastor to use for bucket showers.

A group of us hiked to the summit of Mount Yassur one night and drank kava on top, watching the fiery embers shoot into the night sky. It was my second visit, but the first time I had traversed on top by foot.

Being so close to the volcano, the locals have a very hard time growing food. The soil is terrible. A few months ago, a new water supply project opened up, piping water to White Sands from miles away. Before that, taking a bath consisted of walking a mile down to the ocean to swim in hot springs that are only accessible at low tide.

Anyway, White Sands is far different from Aneityum and it was interesting to see the local work ethic and perseverance the people show in such hard circumstances. Pastor Fred wants to receive a Peace Corps Volunteer for the White Sands community, so I am in the process of trying to help him apply for one.

Will be staying in Middle Bush with a fellow volunteer until Sunday when the Toka ceremony begins in South Tanna...

No internet on Aneityum so I have been out of touch with the world for a while. Sorry. Many interesting stories to tell, perhaps I will get the chance to share some soon. I am well.

Getting ready to witness a custom ceremony on the island of Tanna called Toka. Toka is the largest custom ceremony here and is regarded as a must-see spectacle. Every four or five years, the island of Tanna hosts an especially large Toka ceremony- and it just so happens that 2010 will be such a year. Villagers from all over the island will gather by the thousands and perform custom dances over a 24 hour period.

The ground will literally shake as the custom dancers stomp their feet in unison to the ritual dance and the air will vibrate as locals bellow out their custom songs, just as their ancestors have done for centuries now.

The locals will paint their faces with brightly hued colors, dress up in custom garb and colorful rooster tail feathers will add a finishing accent to their hair.

Apparently in the past, men and women, even those that were married or in committed relationships, were allowed to sneak off in bush and spend the night with any love interest of their choosing. This is not so much the case today but many young people take advantage of the ceremony to be promiscuous. In the morning as the sun rises, hundreds and hundreds of pigs are sacrificed to make amends for in sins that transpired in the evening. Kava is plentiful to say the least.

Anyhow, should be an interesting sight. Will be sure to take lots of photos...

Vanuatu celebrates its 30th year of independence on July 30th. It is an occasion of great importance to the people here, as bitter memories of the joint British / French condominium governments are still fresh in their minds.

There used to be two school systems, police forces, codes of law, pay scales for government workers- among other things, as the the French and British wrestled for control of "New Hebrides" (as Vanuatu was referred to). This was a very jumbled and confused method to govern a nation. During this time, rural villages were famously exploited as foreigners came and acquired land for next to nothing. The rights of local Ni-Vanuatu were second to those of the British and French.

Racism was rampant here and the color of one's skin decided where one fell among the pay scale. Lighter-skinned locals who were bi-racial made a significant amount of extra income over their darker counterparts.

A movement arose among the people and famous Ni-Vanuatu leaders began to demand independence. The British and French both imported a large military presence just in case the struggle for independence turned violent.

Eventually, the British began to recognize that the native peoples had a right to a sovereign nation, but the French government resisted all along the way. The French supplied weapons such as hand grenades and machine guns among local French supporters and attempted to incite civil unrest. Luckily, these weapons were not used to their full potential and rather just caused a panic as unruly mobs fired them into the night air.

On the island of Santo, steel drums were placed on the airport landing strip so military planes could not land with troops and challenge the independence movement.

Anyhow, the majority of the struggle for independence was non-violent and the local population eventually prevailed over the British and French in 1980. British and French citizens were allowed to leave the country with all of their possessions and money, but all of the land titles that they held were reclaimed in the name of local peoples.

New Hebrides was re-named Vanuatu, which means "Our Land." The people are referred to as Ni-Vanuatu, which means "Belonging to Our Land."

Do you want to write me? Do you want to send me care packages filled with delicious cookies and aromatic cigars? I know you do....

Even though I will not leave Aneityum for another 3 months, considering how long it takes for mail to reach me, I will update you all on my new address now. Please send any new mail here now:

Matthew HardwickPeace Corps VanuatuPMB 9097Port VilaVanuatuSouth Pacific

Here is a video of my host brother Demo paddling us in an outrigger canoe. We had just gone fishing, caught 2 "long mouths", on the north side of the island and were heading back to the shore where some hungry kids were eagerly awaiting a fish fry...

I don't get to the northern part of the island often, it is remote and not very populated. But I wish I did, because it is gorgeous there!

(Rita stands on the edge of the shelf reef while fishing with a bamboo rod)

(Rita's colorful catch)

Aneityum is often referred to as the "Peles blong Fis" by outsiders, which means "Place of the Fish." In comparison to other islands, we are blessed with a decent supply of fish on our coral reefs. Having a small population on the island helps prevent over-harvesting, at least for now.

Island chiefs or heads of family are allowed to "block" any section of the island from fishing. If they notice the fish supply starting to dwindle in a given area, they will order that special timbers be erected on the reef to indicate that fishing is prohibited in the area. Locals have been practicing this system of resource management for countless years.

The pictures above show Rita, an avid young fisherwoman at the place where I normally go to fish. Locals use home-made fishing poles with short lines and tiny hooks. Crab or octopus are normally the baits of choice for fish from the coral reef. I enjoy fishing here, you never know what kind of brightly hued fish you might pull out of the water next.

Extreme caution must be practiced before eating fish from a coral reef. There is a type of poisoning called ciguatera, which comes from eating the wrong variety of fish. This poisoning can be fatal, but most often it just severely weakens a person for weeks at a time. It has strange effects on the nervous system too. I have heard volunteers describe it as one of the worst experiences of their life; whenever they felt a warm object- it felt freezing cold to them, and when they touched a cold object, it felt scorching hot. Anyhow the poison comes from the reef itself, the fish contract it by eating all of the tiny animals that thrive there. It is confusing, because sometimes a certain variety of fish will be safe in one area and then in another place, it will have the poison.

On Aneityum, the locals have a pretty extensive knowledge about which fish to eat. So I just follow their lead and have stayed poison-free to this day. Although sometimes locals do make mistakes, and I have seen poison fish victims carried to clinic writhing in pain.

(A letter to the editor of a Vanuatu newspaper- very good at detailing the relationship between men and women here.)

One of the more subtle – but interesting – developments over the last several years in Vanuatu is the rise of public courtship. When I first arrived in Vanuatu some years ago, I was struck by the fact that one would see obvious signs of affection between people of the same sex, but rarely did these gestures cross the gender gap. This is more or less the inverse of what one sees in Western societies, and in fact the sight of two men or two women holding hands has led more than one visitor to mistakenly conclude that Vanuatu is particularly tolerant of homosexuality. (It’s not much better or worse than many other societies in this regard.) Don’t get me wrong, now: Love has played a part in human relations here for... well, forever. It’s just it wasn’t generally the decisive factor in marriage. Courtship, such as it was, consisted more of sober negotiation in the nakamal between the families of prospective partners. The two partners themselves might or might not get along, but their feelings for one another were often of secondary importance to the community’s interests. As often as not, love was actually a complicating factor, because it didn’t always occur within the bonds of matrimony. But the biggest stumbling block, as far as I can tell, is that women and men simply didn’t enjoy the same status. How could a man value a woman if for all intents and purposes she was little more than property? Sure, a man will be fonder of a clean, well located house than a tin shanty in the mud, but that doesn’t mean he loves it. In the course of just a few years, though, a new dynamic has begun to enter into marriage. More and more, partners are choosing each other, freely and without undue pressure. What started as surreptitious late-night flirting and horseplay has begun to show a decidedly emotional side. One balmy evening back in October of 2003, I was walking through the darkened streets in a residential part of town. A slight movement caught my eye, and I realised a young man was standing in the shadow of a bougainvillea, staring off down the road. A few steps further on, I was startled by a young woman standing idly by a hedge on the other side of the street, studiously examining her shoes. Why, I wondered, would people simply stand around on street corners in the dark, I asked myself. I laugh at myself now, but it took me several minutes to realise that this was courtship, Vanuatu-style. Things have changed dramatically in the space of a few short years. Now, it’s not at all uncommon to see young men and women walking about together, even occasionally holding hands. Flirting consists more of smiles and casual contact than the shouted insults and shoulder punches that one saw even a few years ago. Humans are hard-wired for mating. We are innately attracted to others, and efforts to suppress these desires ultimately fail. Societies the world over have struggled with varying success to teach young men and women how to channel desire in a socially responsible way, but none have ever profited by denying it entirely. But attraction isn’t synonymous with love. A bit of furtive wrestling in the dark may soothe the physical need, but it’s not anywhere near enough for domestic harmony. Much has been written in recent years of the rise of romantic love as the defining characteristic of a marriage. It’s a very recent phenomenon. Even into the early 20thCentury, matchmaking was based more on social alliance and status-building than anything else. But the rise of individual wealth removed a number of constraints, allowing people to pursue happiness through meaningful partnership with another. It needs to be said, by the way, that romantic marriages have proved no more enduring (or endurable) than arranged marriages. Each comes with a set of expectations, roles and responsibilities that provides couples with a lifetime of challenge and reward. I take heart nonetheless when I see demonstrations of romantic love in modern-day Port Vila. It says to me that women are beginning to achieve a level of dignity, of person-hood, that makes them not only desirable, but admirable and worthy of respect. There’s a long way yet to go. Legislation, law enforcement and health measures desperately need improvement. It’s heartening to see this week’s announcement of a partnership between AusAID and the Department of Women’s Affairs, under the capable guidance of Dorosday Kenneth. But none of these measures can succeed until men begin to respect and value the women with whom they share their life. The newfound acceptability of open affection doesn’t guarantee this by any means. But it does help make it possible.-Graham Crumb

Before....

and After!!!

This is my neighbor, Selinda (aka Speed Baby) at a wedding. Dousing one another in Baby Powder is a time-honored tradition here on special occasions. Locals like the smell and it adds a bit of humor to public events. Children can amuse themselves for hours by throwing handfuls of powder at one another. One over-zealous child apparently nailed Selinda directly in the face.

The traditional way of serving food at gatherings is still practiced often on Aneityum. Banana leaves are placed on the ground in a straight line and serve as "plates" for the food. Then the different recipes on hand are divvied into small pieces and dished out evenly along the line of banana leaves. Regardless of where you sit along the line of banana leaves, you should be able to reach in and taste the same mix of food as everyone else.

There are no forks, spoons or napkins. Everyone packs in close and takes turns choosing an item to eat. If there is an especially prized item on the menu, such as lobster, locals are very considerate in sharing, making sure that everyone gets a taste.

The Ministry of Health in Vanuatu has encouraged people to stop practicing this traditional dining style. They are afraid that it is not hygienic, especially when outdoors where island dogs are always vigilantly pacing nearby awaiting the opportunity to pounce at an unprotected section of the banana leaves. I find this to be the most entertaining part of the meal however, watching the massive effort to fend off starving dogs with stones and other projectiles.

The pictures above show the lunch we shared on Easter Sunday.

Romance is complicated on the island of Aneityum. It certainly does not resemble any of the notions we hold in the Western World. This is a story of John, my best friend on Aneityum, and how he came to marry his wife Eunice.

(John, Eunice & children)

Before John married or even pursued Eunice, he had another girlfriend. He was not "dating" this woman, as there is no "dating" in rural Vanuatu. (Where would you go on a date?) Instead, John probably initiated their relationship by expressing his interest and joking with her. They most likely had to sneak off away from the village to meet, away from the prying eyes of other locals. Finding that they shared a mutual attraction, they completely by-passed "dating." Their relationship became quite serious almost over night. She moved into his home and began helping with house work and chores, while he played the traditional role of the man and secured their food and money.

John wanted to marry this woman, but the woman's family did not approve. One day they came to the house and demanded that she leave. Families wield an extraordinary amount of power when it comes to approving or rejecting relationships. (This is often why young people choose to hide their significant others for as long as possible). Upset, John left the island and worked in the capital city, Port Vila for a couple of years.

After living in town, John was eager to return to Aneityum and lead a simpler life. He moved back to the island and soon a woman named Eunice caught his eye. Eunice was two years older than John, around 24 years old. She had a 2 year old son with a previous boyfriend, who had since abandoned her and taken up with another local woman.

John's friends could not understand why he wanted to pursue Eunice, as she was older and already had a child. He ignored them. He was attracted to Eunice, liked her personality and observed that she was a "very hard worker." She enjoyed spending lots of time working in the garden, a trait John valued in her. John admits that he is a bit of a "lazy man," and if he married a lazy woman, his family would surely starve to death. Thus he began his courtship with Eunice.

John practiced "creeping," the Ni-Vanuatu practice of sneaking out at night to visit a woman in secret. Their secretive relationship blossomed over time, until Eunice's family discovered what was taking place. Eunice's father and brothers did not approve of John. They ordered him to end all contact with Eunice.

John believes that her they did not want Eunice to marry him because they were using her as an indentured servant. She provided a lot of help to the family in the garden, cooking and with other chores- so they did not want to lose a valuable worker! The family claimed that Eunice was promised to another man, following kastom practice on the island.

Having already lost a possible mate through a family's disapproval, John was determined this time around. He was summoned to a chiefly council where he was strictly forbidden from even talking to Eunice. John told them all that he agreed with their decision and they all drank kava together to settle the issue.

That very same night, John crept over to Eunice's house and snuck out to the gardens with her.

The family soon became aware that the relationship had not ended. Eunice's father and brothers were furious. They came for John with machetes and axes.

John saw the armed ambush approaching him and darted off through the bush. They chased him over a lengthy distance and eventually started gaining ground on him. To avoid being caught and harmed, John sprinted blindly through a very dense thicket of bush to try to lose his pursuers. While darting through the tropical forest, John fell over a small cliff, which he did not observe because of the vegetation and his quick pace.

He fell around 10 feet, but landed on awkwardly top of some saplings and felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his neck. A narrow tree branch had poked through his neck, right in the jugular.

He covered his neck to stop the bleeding and was able to hide in the bush from the family. He was badly injured though and feared for his life. He met some other locals and sent for Eunice, who met with him in the bush and gave him local kastom medicine. She brought food to him and helped him to find a better location to hide.

John suffered through fever and mild infection, but was able to heal through the local medicine that was administered. He did not return to his home for weeks, as he knew the family would be waiting to approach him. Instead, he slept outdoors in the bush, changing locations constantly to avoid detection.

Anyhow, it is a wild story and entertaining to hear first-hand from John. Eventually he married Eunice and the family begrudgingly accepted John. John laughs about the fact that his father-in-law visits them often and sleeps at their house now. "And to think he ran after me with an axe once!"

(Have been on home leave in the US for a month now. Will fly back to Vanuatu in 2 & 1/2 weeks! I feel like time is passing far too quickly. I anticipate being excited to return to the South Pacific yet sad to leave behind some smiling faces.

Anyhow, sorry I have not been actively posting... will try to change that over the next 4 or 5 weeks before I return to my remote island home.)

Here's the preview for the music DVD I have been working on, where all proceeds go towards the community. It has been a long process, but I am relieved that the whole production is almost complete.

I am on home leave in the USA for the next month. Will be selling DVD's here to fundraise until I return to Vanuatu, where I will launch the DVD independence weekend, July 28-30.

DOUBLE CLICK ON THE LINK- to see the full screen version. Sometimes, only half of the video shows up.

Recently, I made a small kastom offering to community leaders on the island. Following their tradition, I provided a pig and kava to local chief's and other "big man." I made this kastom offering because A.) I was hungry for roasted pork and B.) to explain my latest fundraising efforts and gain the support of area leaders.

I wanted it to be perfectly clear that profit from the upcoming DVD would go towards community needs (such as solar lighting and sports equipment) and not my own pocket. The kastom offering gave me the opportunity to gather together and inform locals from all the major villages on Aneityum. I only worried about the perception of islanders I do not know well, as some people could leap to the wrong conclusion.

The offering went very well. According to kastom now, the full island must support the project now that the leaders have accepted the pig and kava. We formed a committee to decide how to use any proceeds from DVD sales.

There are not many pigs on Aneityum. To acquire one, I called up Arthur, the volunteer in Middle Bush, Tanna (the one who was kastom circumcised) and left a hurried voicemail message, since his island's mobile phone service is extremely finicky and nearly requires climbing the phone company's tower and holding hoisting one's phone above your head to even receive one bar of reception. I was in total doubt that Arthur even received my message when a cargo ship arrived one day and a man delivered a squealing, hog-tied parcel at my doorstep.

I threw the pig in a small pen at my host family's house and they fed him left over table scraps for a week before we performed the kastom offering. It was roasted slowly over super-heated stones, bundled in leaves and mixed with Fiji taro.

Arthur said he did not wish to receive money in exchange for the expensive pig. He had a favor to ask me in return. He wanted a turtle from Aneityum, which is a highly prized gourmet delicacy in Middle Bush, Tanna. He was planning a ceremony himself and needed the turtle as an offering for his village. Thus I paid for boat fuel and local man to go "hook" a massive turtle on the reef.

When locals hear this story they laugh in surprise at Arthur and I. For thousands of years, tribes from the coastal areas have exchanged their local goods with tribes from the highlands. Arthur and I continued this kastom practice to the amusement of all.

I briefly mentioned some brutal murders involving a village on the island of Maewo in my last blog posting. It is an interesting story, so I thought I would go into further detail.

The story has dominated local news coverage throughout the past several months and I was somewhat apprehensive about visiting this community after reading about what happened there.

It all started with the mysterious deaths of two headmasters at the village high school. One died of unexplained causes and then the replacement suffered the same fate within just a few months. They were relatively young and suffering from no diagnosed medical conditions. Of course it is possible that they died of a brain aneurism, stroke caused from a blocked artery or sudden severe illness- and that the timing of their deaths was merely a coincidence. But that is not what the community believes. Their village was positive that someone had performed black magic on the two teachers, out of jealousy or anger.

Specifically, they thought the two teachers had been poisoned. There are certain kastom rituals involving poison and black magic that thrive in Vanuatu today and have been practiced for thousands of years. While I may doubt these supernatural powers some may claim to have on the islands, a majority of the population is in total belief.

The village elders performed a kastom ritual to discover who was responsible for the black magic poisonings. The Maewo ritual is quite elaborate and I have never observed it- but apparently 10 meter long bamboo trees are cut down on top of a mountain and carried great distances, never being allowed to make contact with the ground, to a holy tabu place. The bamboo is then cut and filled with water and the village elders consult spirits which speak to them through the bamboo. Anyhow, the spirits evidently indicated that two men in the village were responsible for the deaths of the teachers.

There was a huge meeting in the village where the two men were accused. They denied any and all wrongdoing. One apparently gave an alibi for his location during the time of one of the deaths. The alibi turned out to be false though, the accused man later claimed to have confused the dates. But this was more than enough evidence for the village to assume the worst.

The village began to stone the two men, who immediately fled into the bush. Maewo has a plentiful supply of large, aerodynamic, volcanic stones- it is a wonder that the two escaped the meeting alive. A group of villagers swears that as they were about to stone one accused man to death, he vanished into thin air, further evidence of the use of black magic.

The two accused men hid in the dense bush and left the island in middle of the night. They took a boat to the island of Ambae, about a 90 minute trip away via motor boat or full night's effort in a canoe.

The village chief caught wind of the escape and ordered that a search party be dispatched to kill the two suspects. A boat carried the search party to Ambae the next day. They located one of the accused men rather quickly on the shore of the provincial capital. He was brutally cut into pieces with machetes and axes. I met a man from Ambae who witnessed the murder. He described the slaying in detail but said that the local Ambae men, including the police were afraid of interfering and inciting the wrath of the search party.

The second accused man had been admitted to the area hospital because of wounds inflicted during his stoning. He was tracked down and murdered in his hospital bed.

The search party returned to Maewo with the remains of accused men. The village tearlessly inspected their remains and initial preparations to bury the bodies were abandoned when it was suggested that the two could use black magic to resurrect themselves in the night and cause mischief. Thus, the two bodies were transported out to a deep place on the ocean and dumped overboard.

There are two Peace Corps volunteers, a young married couple named Justin and Sheridan, who work as teachers in this community. As you can imagine, it has been a stressful period of time for them, witnessing these events unfold. Justin described the unreal scene of viewing the remains of the slain men arrive back on Maewo. I asked for his opinion on the recent turmoil and why he and his wife remained in the village. He expressed his distaste for what had happened but thought that the villagers were well-intentioned nonetheless. They were just doing everything in their power to protect the school and make their community safer.

Anyhow, it is one hell of a story.

Certain search party members later turned themselves into police custody on the island of Ambae. It is unlikely that they will face harsh consequences.

(Girl Ambae in kastom dress)(Looking out to Lake Monaro)

(Jumping at Big Wota with Bridget)

(Posing at Big Wota) (Wrote this story today for the Peace Corps newsletter...)The recent walk-about to Ambae and Maewo was eventful. I will not bore you with the details, as over-exposure has made me apathetic towards breath-taking scenery by now and I am writing in a hurry anyway. Let’s just say that everything looked “naes we” (Bislama for very nice) and I will try to focus on writing about what I found interesting. Northern Vanuatu is hot. In the summer time, I probably would not notice and state something so blatantly obvious. But now that we have blanket and sweatshirt temps down south on Aneityum, I think it is worth mentioning. I spent the first day sweating excessively around Ed and Beth’s mansion. “Black Billy” DeLancey showed us around town, as Ed and Beth were away exploring Tanna during our visit. We dined on omelets at sassy Celia’s take away restaurant. Our rowdy group drew a crowd of onlookers as we splashed around the black sand beach and Arthur did headstands. Tim (who I now refer to as “Bed Brother”) and I shared a small, not so supple mattress while further confined in a narrow mosquito net. We slept outside on the mansion’s veranda overlooking a bay, praying that even the faintest whisper of a breeze might reach us, but were sadly disappointed. Mobile phones chirping woke us at 4:15 AM, before even ambitious faol considered singing out and we were bouncing along on a pickup truck by 5:10 AM. We would hike Monaro that day. I suggested to Billy that we simply travel to a village, story with some yangfala, and begin a low-key hike to the top. Nothing touristy- just good ole exploring with the locals. Our arrival in Serembulu was less than low key however. A bubu shell announced the arrival of our pickup truck. Women in kastom dress hung flower necklaces on our necks. Men beat on tam-tam like drums. Green coconuts were offered to us as we were ushered to seats of honor in a sparkling clean nakamal. The village chief welcomed us and local women performed kastom dances. Arthur and Tim coerced myself, Bob and Billy into doing a kastom dance from Tanna to say thank you for the village’s hearty welcome and the locals were so pleased they told Arthur that they intended to give us a small pig in appreciation. There was no breaking bush along the road, the path to the top was clean and well planned, support hand rails were even built in the extremely muddy areas. A string band awaited us after an hour’s trek up a large hill along the path. Cut sugar cane dangled from trees at planned rest stops. We swam in chilly Lake Monaro. As I tread water on top of the volcanic crater lake and stared at ash rising from not so distant vents, an eerie feeling of impending doom swept over me. This was quickly forgotten at lunch time, when tin fish and Ding Dongs were woofed down at alarming speeds. The Serembulu road to the top of Mt. Monaro was advertised as taking only 2 hours to traverse. It took us 4 ½ hours to reach the summit and 3 hours to return. My savats became utterly useless when coated in softmud, so I hiked 90% of the road barefoot. Bob and I took turns informing each other of which stones along the path were “mother f**kers” as our toes bled freely and sores began to manifest. Rachel soared ahead of us on the return back to the village and I wondered if I might spend the entire night walking barefoot through the bush when we suddenly reemerged in Serembulu to receive fresh stone ground kava, kumala lap lap and prawn wasemaot. A south Ambae man named Bob (or “Cool Bob” as I refer to him to distinguish from “White Bob”) followed us back to the mansion to provide Mount Monaro tattoos to our group. I drank kava with “Cool Bob” but I was the only one to refuse a tattoo as I have little desire to contract hepatitus or explain why an equal sign (the Monaro tattoo) has been tattooed on my buttox for the remainder of my life. The women of Ambae are all beautiful as a rule. I almost feel as if I have been cheated living on Aneityum the past 2 years, where the supply of females is limited to say the least. In Serembulu, the chief’s daughter joined our Monaro expedition. When she refused to tell me her name, I gave her a new kastom name, “Kumala Lap Lap.” Kumala Lap Lap teased me the entire trek but when we returned to the village she and her father presented me with a large take-away portion of kumala lap lap which I took as a symbolic gesture that I was being offered Kumala Lap Lap as a bride. I shook hands awkwardly and boarded the pickup truck to the mansion with my starchy snack parcel. Man Ambae said that the women of Maewo were even more attractive, so you can imagine how excited I was to observe this in person. Facilitating the BUILD workshop and seeing the picturesque waterfalls on the island might be mildly rewarding as well I supposed. The BUILD / GLOW camp made me feel more like a hippy than I have ever felt in my life. There were tye-dye shirts, friendship bracelets, frisbees, hacky sacks, feelings were shared and we actually sang “Kumbaeya”. The word "Dude" was tossed around liberally. We bonded well with the youth after spending every waking moment for three days with them. A lot of important information was delivered on subjects such as leadership and sexual health, but whether they absorbed it or not remains to be seen. But one thing’s for sure- they know how to throw a frisbee pretty damn well now! Maewo volunteers are lucky to be on such a remarkable island. With the exception of the recent poisonings / brutal murders that took place in Justin / Sheridan’s community- the place seemed swell! Actually, it’s probably because I was expecting to be ambushed the entire trip that I found all of the locals so remarkably friendly. I had never interacted with Justin and Sheridan before, I had only respected Justin’s mustache from a safe distance and had typed up a story Sheridan submitted to the newsletter (which I accidentally deleted- sorry again!). But they are a humorous couple whose company I enjoyed. Sandy ran the camps with the full support of her community and was extremely organized. I fault her only for owning a kitten that likes to assault sleeping humanitarians in the wee hours of the morning. Arthur and Bob, who slept on Sandy’s veranda would take turns in the night of tossing the kitten inside of her house (where I was in sweet repose) and shutting the door until I was attacked by the wild feline and became annoyed enough to arise and toss it back outside. Thus we named this puskat “The Hand Grenade,” and we handled it with deadly care before tossing it lest we be scratched by razor sharp claws. Justine hosted us for a night at her place where we dined on pasta cross-eyed after experiencing stone ground Maewo kava for the first time. Big Water, a series, or rather one massive, spread out waterfall in north Maewo was a highlight of the trip. We also dove off a smaller but also enjoyable waterfall in Central Maewo after exploring Moon Cave. These are “naes we” places and need to be seen first hand to be understood.When it was time to return to Vila / Aneityum, it was a sad day. A group of villagers treked down to stoney shore to wave goodbye to our boat and the gloomy weather drizzled in respect to the occasion. Couldn’t we spend one more week on Maewo?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfmZjwRJ5gs

The sample clip link should work now on YouTube...

The camera man for my music DVD finally arrived to Aneityum before last week, though he was a bit behind schedule. He had missed three previously agreed upon dates- so I was beginning to give up hope. We shot 6 videos in all on Aneityum. Sam, the camera man, is busy editing them now- but I have seen a few rough draft copies and I am pleased. We hiked all over the island trying to find scenic backdrops for the shoot. Rain interfered with our plans a few times, but all in all- the week went well. I will be selling the DVD's locally but hopefully online too through PayPal. All of the profits will be donated back to the community. I have plans to buy more solar light systems for local churches, sporting equipment and maybe even fund some scholarships for island youth if there is enough money. Anyhow, here is a brief sample. This is just a rough copy, but I will update you all again when it the final version is ready sometime in June...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfmZjwRJ5gs

Peace Corps flew me into Port Vila for my Close of Service (COS) conference this week. Can't believe that two years have passed since my arrival in Vanuatu. Time is flying now, but it definitely seemed to stand still during numerous stretches throughout my service.

The COS conference is the last time my training group will be together. We have a close connection because of our shared experiences. We struggled to adapt to a new culture together: fumbling with our Bislama, sitting through tedious hours of lecture, battling home sickness and exploring a new tropical world with wide eyes.

There were 21 volunteers in our training group to start with. Two years later, only 13 of us remain. (Some left early because of medical problems, to pursue work / school plans or just due to frustrations with life here). The survivors in our group sat through two days of presentations this week by PC staff members intended to gather the necessary paperwork and information needed to provide some closure to our work here in Vanuatu. They put us up in a nice bungalow though, much nicer than the standard rooms resembling prison cells that we normally inhabit. There was even a washer / dryer in one of the rooms. Luxury.

We went on a karaoke booze cruise dinner to mark our last evening spent together. Singing "Fulsom Prison Blues" loudly into the night under the influence of Jack Daniels almost made me forget that I was in the South Pacific.

We will leave this country one by one now over the next three months. I will not see many of the faces in our group again. Four PCV's, including myself, are considering extending our service for one more year. If we do extend, this will entitle us to a Peace Corps funded flight back to the USA and over a month's vacation time before starting another year.

My extension was just approved officially yesterday. Below is the application letter I sent to the Country Director which should provide a little more insight as to why I wanted to spend another year in Vanuatu.

"To Whom it May Concern,

With a desire to assist the people of Vanuatu, challenge myself and contribute to a noble cause, I seek to extend my Peace Corps service by an additional year.

My Peace Corps service to date has been the most rewarding and humbling experience of my life. Integrating into a new culture and sharing with my community has taught me invaluable life lessons. There have moments of joy, successful projects and good relationships built with villagers. There have also been frustrations and difficulties along the way, as would accompany any rigorous undertaking. At the end of the day though, I believe that I have had a positive influence in my community and have become a better, more determined person throughout the process. Thus, I strongly desire to extend 3 months at my current site in Aneityum and then 9 months in the village of Epau.

The justification behind a three month extension on Aneityum is twofold. First, an additional three months will allow me to compensate for lost time experienced during medical evacuations to Brisbane and Washington, DC. A year ago, I was experiencing medical problems which had a drastic impact on my productivity. Between being sick at site, Port Vila, Brisbane and DC- I was sidelined from my service for about three months. I returned to site with a renewed passion to make the most of my time in Vanuatu, having almost lost the opportunity. I am currently experiencing zero medical problems and am confident that I have made a full recovery.

Secondly, three more months at site would give me the chance to finish some unresolved business in the community. My former counter-part, the manager of our community timber project, was recently embroiled in a sexual scandal involving the rape of a minor and incest. We later discovered that he had also stolen significant moneys from the project. The Board of Directors for the project just issued his termination- and a replacement for his position has been named. As a business volunteer, most of my work takes place in an office setting with management. Even three extra months would help provide sufficient time to work with and train this new management. My presence during this transition time at the community project could make an importance difference.

Also in wake of the recent abuse and controversy in the community, I am left wanting to take some sort of action. I have already started a woman's football league here on the island, the first of its kind. But I would like to organize a "Woman's Weekend" here on the island- and have guest speakers visit to discuss important issues relating to empowerment of women, abuse and family issues. I have presented this idea to the Area Secretary and Area Councilor and have their full support. I plan to request help from the GAD committee in organizing these events. The "Woman's Weekend" would correspond with the end of season women's soccer tournament. I would only be able to organize the weekend with an additional three months on the island, otherwise I will hard-pressed for time.

I have also recently been able to acquire a new tractor and saw mill engine for the timber project through requests to the government of Vanuatu. They should be arriving in a shipment to Aneityum sometime towards the end of this year. I would love to be here at their arrival and assist in their implementation at Aneityum Forest Timba.

I would like to serve 9 months in Epau Village in north Efate for many reasons. I already have an intimate knowledge of the community because it was my training village. This will give me an advantage as I am already well known and have established relationships. I am aware that the community desperately wants a Peace Corps Volunteer, they mentioned this even back in 2008. Bob Kelley, Jeremiah Johnson and a trainee from the new group were all slated to serve there at one time, but it never worked out for various reasons. The conservation area in Epau is of great importance to the community. Having the full support of the community is extremely important to me.

My background in both business administration and forestry will aid me in assisting the Area Secretary in Epau Village. Exploring new territory and changing my work place would be refreshing. It would also be nice to experience service somewhere less remote. I sometimes feel extremely isolated as the only Westerner on Aneityum now, especially when communication lines are down.

Thank you for your consideration to this request to extend and I eagerly await your answer.

Matthew Hardwick"

The solar project I have been working on is officially finished as of this week! Originally, I had planned to wrap things up in November- but due to the size of a solar system I installed in a village called Umej, I ran out of wiring.

There are five community buildings that have solar lighting now. A very large Catholic church, a house for the Presbyterian Woman's and Youth group, the timber office, a nakamal / dining hall and a small SDA church. I just completed the lighting system at the small SDA church because a cargo ship finally delivered some wire which I ordered months ago.

Thank you to all of the donors out there! I will post some pictures / videos of the completed solar kits when I have a decent internet connection and you all should receive some thank you letters sometime soon.

Most of us in the Western World do not realize the importance of lighting until the power goes out and yet we still instinctively flip the light switch repeatedly like hamsters with learning disabilities. Cutting the island's reliance of kerosine and generators is important- and these community buildings are inspiring a lot of local families to save up for solar systems of their own.

The rain really needs to stop now, I have had enough. I just waded through nearly knee-deep puddles as I returned from the other side of village this evening. I am dripping wet and cold. It seems that my rain jacket has gone from being "water resistant" to "water absorbent". A new jacket is now at the top of my wish list. Of course, I do not own an umbrella either because of a deeply entrenched belief that using or even purchasing one would somehow reduce my manliness.

Many of the village paths consist of a red clay that becomes unbelievably slippery when wet. Add steep hillsides to the equation and the possibility of sliding great distances on one's ass becomes very real. Sandals become useless when the red clay coats the inside and leaves you slipping with no traction. It is better to go barefoot and just clean your dirty feet at some later point in time.

I had dinner with a local family tonight, but the mother was not present because heavy rains flooded a nearby river and left her stranded on the other side. She will probably take shelter for the entire night with some villagers until the water level drops tomorrow morning.

Lots of rain means lots of mosquitos now, when normally they are not such a problem. Luckily, my windows are screened and I sleep under a mosquito net for extra protection. Nothing is more annoying in life than trying to fall asleep with a mosquito buzzing in one's ear canal. My garden is very green. I have a small nursery bed for all of my lettuce and cabbage seedlings but I have to cover it well with banana leaves so that the heavy rains do not wash it away.

The camera man is due to fly in tomorrow to shoot my music videos for the week. Lots of rain would spoil our plans to go hiking and capture some of the scenery here. I hope things dry up...

St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite holidays in the US. I usually mark the occasion by taking sick leave from work, wearing my Celtic football jersey, watching college basketball the entire day and witnessing the collapse of my March Madness bracket whilst drinking cold Guinness and blaring Irish music way too loud.

I did none of those things today.

It was a cloudy, damp day- a cyclone recently went through the northern part of the country and we have been experiencing its effects. There were very strong winds for a few days, flights to the island were canceled. Sadly, the flight that was supposed to carry the camera man for my music video on the island was canceled as well- but we have rescheduled for 2 weeks time.

A cargo ship arrived last week, so the stores are well stocked with supplies at the moment. The ship came for our community project's timber- 52 cubic meters in all. We sell for around $500 a cubic so we will make over $25,000. I am proud of all of the employees, they worked very hard while I was away in Vila and we were able to attract a ship here entirely through their effort. It had been about a year's time since the last shipment of timber, when ideally ships should come for our timber every two months.

The ship delivered 8 large bags of a special kind of grass for our work horse to eat. Spent two days sweating in my garden making a nursery for it all. Made a new garden area for tomatoes, onions, lettuce and cabbage that I fenced in with chicken wire as well. (If you do not fence in your garden, chickens destroy your hard work with their relentless scratching and pecking.)

The old timber project manager has finally been terminated by the Board of Directors! When I returned from Port Vila, the Board had yet to make a decision and were planning on continuing to use me as "Acting Manager." Being a business advisor, I do not appreciate being used as a free employee. It is my job to work with the locals here, teach them to fish instead of tossing them a free meal. So I shut down work for at the timber project. I told the Board that work would remain closed until they elected a replacement "Acting Manager" and disciplined the old manager. They did exactly that and now the project is up and running again.

I believe that the police may come for the old manager as I hear rumors that his case is not finished. The police actually did come over a month ago and attempted to take him into custody, but he fled into the bush when it was time to board the plane to leave Aneityum. Anyhow if the woman's rights group funds another police expedition here, maybe the police will be more successful on their second attempt.

Brian the thief is now in custody on the island of Tanna and Okis (who attacked his grandfather after stealing from his store) is awaiting trial on the island of Efate. Maybe there is some justice in the country...

I have been slowly contributing to the decay of my mental facilities by watching Entourage, Seasons 1-4 the past few weeks. Just started reading The Pearl / The Red Pony by Steinbeck, which my family thoughtfully sent me, to counteract my loss of brain power. Super Man the puppy is growing remarkably fast and demands to be fed more every day. My friend John and I are building a small house in my nakamal to hide from the rain while we drink kava. Life is good.

The news article below details some of the panic we experienced here yesterday. I was sleeping in a village called Mele when banging on the door disturbed my sleep at 5 AM. I opened the door half-asleep and listened to a villager explain that the entire country was under a tsunami warning because of a massive earth quake.I had felt a minor earthquake at 9:30 PM the night before but did not think much of it.Being a low-lying village, almost the entire population of 5,000 people evacuated to the hillsides. I was hesitant to go at first, because A.) I was drowsy and B.) I was in a second story building about a mile inland. But as I was staying at a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer's apartment, I followed her lead (which was the smart and responsible thing to do anyway). We hitched a ride in the back of a pickup to the top of a massive hilltop and awaited a killer tsunami to arrive at 8:30 AM. We played cards with village children in our impromptu refugee camp, hundreds of people swarming around us. The radio gave us vague updates every half hour, otherwise the DJ was playing Michael Jackson's, "We Are the World" on repeat to slowly torture us. The entire country was on "Red Alert." Nothing actually arrived and we returned to the apartment at lunch time- but better safe than sorry.I fly back to Aneityum early tomorrow morning. I am looking forward to getting back to life on the island, I am sure Super Man misses me quite a bit.Scientists defend warning after tsunami noneventBy GILLIAN FLACCUS (AP) – 2 hours agoHONOLULU — The warning was ominous, its predictions dire: Oceanographers issued a bulletin telling Hawaii and other Pacific islands that a killer wave was heading their way with terrifying force and that "urgent action should be taken to protect lives and property."But the devastating tidal surge predicted after Chile's magnitude 8.8-earthquake for areas far from the epicenter never materialized and by Sunday, authorities had lifted the warning after waves half the predicted size tickled the shores of Hawaii and tourists once again jammed beaches and restaurants.Scientists acknowledged they overstated the threat, but defended their actions, saying they took the proper steps and learned the lessons of the 2004 Indonesian tsunami that killed thousands of people who didn't get enough warning."It's a key point to remember that we cannot end the warnings. Failure to warn is not an option for us," said Dai Lin Wang, an oceanographer at the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii. "We cannot have a situation that we thought was no problem and then it's devastating. That just cannot happen."Hundreds of thousands of people fled shorelines for higher ground Saturday in a panic that circled the Pacific Rim after scientists warned 53 nations and territories that a tsunami had been generated by the massive Chilean quake.It was the largest-scale evacuation in Hawaii in years, if not decades. Emergency sirens blared throughout the day, the Navy moved ships out of Pearl Harbor, and residents hoarded gasoline, food and water in anticipation of a major disaster. Some supermarkets even placed limits on items like Spam because of the panic buying.At least five people were killed by the tsunami on Robinson Crusoe Island off Chile's coast and huge waves devastated the port city of Talcahuano, near hard-hit Concepcion on Chile's mainland.But the threat of monster waves that left Hawaii's sun-drenched beaches empty for hours never appeared — a stark contrast to the tidal surge that killed 230,000 people around the Indian Ocean in 2004 and flattened entire communities.This time, waves of more than 5 feet were reported in Kahului Bay in Maui and in Hilo, on the eastern coast of Hawaii's Big Island, but did little damage. Predictions of wave height in some areas were off by as much as 50 percent.In Tonga, where up to 50,000 people fled inland hours ahead of the tsunami, the National Disaster Office had reports of a wave up to 6.5 feet hitting a small northern island, with no indications of damage.And in Japan, where authorities ordered 400,000 people out of coastal communities, the biggest wave was a 4-foot surge that hit the northern island of Hokkaido, flooding some piers.Still, scientists offered no apologies for the warning and defended their work, all while worrying that the false alarm could lead to complacency among coastal residents — a disastrous possibility in the earthquake-prone Pacific Rim.

Over the past 6 months, I have made a new hip-hop CD in Bislama, the pidgin language of Vanuatu with a couple of songs in English as well. With the encouragement of friends and locals, I have started making music videos for these songs. I am planning to sell the DVD and donate any profit back to the community.

Music DVD's are wildly popular here in Vanuatu. Villagers will spend entire evenings watching Pacific string band, African zook and Carribbean reggae videos. Often, the musicians sing in a foreign language that locals that cannot even understand. They are enamored with these DVD's nonetheless.

There will be roughly 10 songs on the DVD. We have already filmed about 2 songs completely. Crowds gather in the streets here when we film, slightly embarassing to be perfectly honest. But if Peace Corps prepares you for one thing in life, it's how to ignore being stared at.

I have hired a professional cameraman to film and edit the videos. He is charging roughly $100 per song and I have paid for his plane ticket to Aneityum, where we will shoot over half the DVD on the island. Hopefully I will re-coup all of these expenses when we launch the DVD in June.

Most of the songs are about purely Ni-Vanuatu topics, so I am hoping to capture local interest. There are songs about kava, the arrival of Christian missionaries, the low quality Chinese stores here to give a few examples. There is no hip-hop available now in Bislama as well, so this will be a first for the country. I will keep you all updated on how things go...