into the bush

13 October2014

This morning I woke up promptly at 2:45am to commence in a 1.5 hour downhill hike from my friend Jasmine’s site, Womol. If you have been enjoying my blog since at least July you might remember that I went up to Womol with my school for the IPSS events which were unfortunately cut short because of a death in the community. Well, on Saturday I headed up to Womol with another volunteer, Maureen (Mo Go, Mo Mani Mo Problemz or Numbawan Preparded Disasta Queen) but unlike last time we were not lucky enough to catch a ride.

Maureen and I left my house at 11:15am Saturday morning and walked west towards Espigel’s Bay. It took us about 45 minutes to get to Espigel’s Bay and of course, in typical awesome Ni-Van fashion, we were invited to eat some laplap with a family after church. At first we were hesitant because we really just wanted to get to Womol but decided that hiking in the middle of a hot Vanuatu day wasn’t the smartest day. And of course, who can resist a good laplap taro with pumpkin!

We spelled and storied for almost an hour and we back on the road to Womol. The road up to Womol from Espigel’s Bay is long, steep, bumpy and extremely dry. We started out feeling good, luckily not carrying too much, commenting on how much the road has started to improve since large machinery has been driving up and down developing the future papaya plantation. The beginning of the hike is weighted heavily with the majority of the major hills of the hike and as this was also the driest area and the sun was at its highest position of the day, it was extraordinarily miserable. Eventually we conquered the hill, taking turns holding the umbrella for shade and the basket of veggies we were bringing. The land eventually evened out as we approached the future plantation and before long we spotted the first house.

Maureen and I arrived in Womol around 2:30—less than three hours after leaving Matanvat. Not too bad for a humid Vanuatu Saturday. Luckily upon our arrival Jasmine was glad to let us relax a bit and we just walked around her community for a little while before settling in to cook some stir fry and watch a dumb comedy.

The next morning we woke up and went to church. After church it was time for laplap again, this time taro with island cabbage piled three stories high and swimming in coconut milk. So good. While eating we got to story with Jasmine’s host family and I learned that they are actually part of my family too. My Dadi and Jasmine’s Dadi are “brothers” (more like cousins in the US) so I call him Dadi as well. Jasmine’s Mami is actually Dadi Michel’s third wife. The first one died but the second and third are both still alive, the second has just moved out of the house with some of the children but still lives in Womol. Jasmine’s Mami and Dadi don’t have any children together but from his first and second wife, along with some other women as well, Dadi Michel has over twenty children. This may seem a little strange, and in Vanuatu it isn’t the norm, but around the house life is business as usual. Jasmine’s Mami and Dadi are are just good life companions—they go to the garden together and look out for the various children around the house together and there are no negative feelings between Dadi Michel and any of his wives or children. Jasmine’s Mami’s name is Ella and is a very strong old woman who still goes to the garden everyday for many hours. She also wears really fancy earrings and likes a glass of wine once in awhile.

In the afternoon Jasmine, Maureen and I held a workshop for Womol youth on healthy communication and healthy families. We talked about actions that build up families and actions that break down families and how we can help to keep our families strong. One of the more memorable parts of the workshop was meeting a small baby boy named Rollo (like the candy!) and another named Jazzy, named after Jasmine.

That night we tried to go to bed early because we would be up so early for the hike down but of course I couldn’t fall asleep until 11 or so and was up once again to hike at 2:45. It had rained on and off the day before so when we ventured off from Jasmine’s house it was a long, slippery journey downhill for 1.5 hours. By the time we reached the bottom (before the sun came up mind you) my legs were covered with mud and my sandals had fallen apart at least three times. Luckily as soon as we reached the bottom we saw a truck that was heading to Lakatoro so we jumped on it.

Fifteen minutes later I jumped down in Matanvat—it was 5:30am, the sun was finally up. I washed my legs off before heading inside to make some coffee and rest a little before heading to school to teach for the day.