We had a tropical cyclone scare yesterday. It started with a lot of rain, and people in town were stocking up on their emergency supplies of tuna and candles. People had started tying down loose boards and covering their windows with sheet metal or plastic, anything they could find. Peace Corps consolidated all the volunteers, and for a while there it was pretty scary, as the winds picked up and the lights went out and weather guy on the radio kept repeating "DO NOT leave your house, Hurricane Daman is expected to hit Savusavu directly...."

This is what the news said:

"A destructive category four cyclone with winds gusting up to 275km/h is barrelling towards Fiji, sparking the evacuation of tourists and some flight cancellations.

Cyclone Daman has rapidly strengthened from the lowest category one to a "top end category four" storm, with an average wind speed of 195km/h.

Vanua Levu, Fiji's second largest island with a population of about 360,000, is expected to begin to feel Daman's full force about midnight (2300 AEDT Friday) when it makes landfall."

But the cyclone took a swing to the northeast and dodged us completely, and so we were left, excited pcv's drinking wine by candle light on the floor of my house... releived, yes, but I'm not going to lie...a little bummed that we didnt get in on any of the action.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

After the fourth HIV / AIDS presentation of the year, 5 of my students came up to me and asked if I could arrange an appointment for them to get tested. A huge accomplishment!

What is it about turning 26?

It’s not so much the number. 26. It’s the fact that 26 is so much closer to 30. I’m not afraid of turning 30. Trust me, I’m not one of those women who studies her wrinkles in the mirror and freaks out to find that she has acquired 3 new sun spots…I like to call them freckles. Looking back at 24, I am not at all where I thought I would be at 26, but I am exactly where I need to be today.

So what is it about 26? Maybe it’s that 25 was such a good year for me, it’s going to be hard to top. But as I was thinking about turning a year older and having lived the past year of my life to the point of tears, I couldn’t help but smile and be grateful that I am here living my life, raw.

With my freckles and dirty hair, my bucket baths and mosquito net, my round Latina body that doesn’t seem to want to go away, my flip flops in the rain, and the sweat on my brow, I am off to another day in my 26 year old life.

Some quotes on growing older by a woman I read and admire so often…

“Why in this civilization do we value the woman who ‘stays young’? Why ‘stay young’ when adventure lies in change and growth?”

“I feel it in myself…I am definitely much older than I was a year ago, and I rather like it. There’s less pressure.”

May Sarton

Eleven hours, eight suitcases, and a whole lot of ocean later, my family arrived at Nadi International Airport. I jumped up and down with excitement as they made their way past security, cranky and jet-lagged but having successfully smuggled in blocks of cheese. Now, that is love…

After packing and unpacking suitcases in the middle of the airport, (we left most of them in storage) my mom occasionally holding something up and saying with a huge smile, “I brought you this, or I brought you that”. My dad asking over and over, “Has anyone seen my blue shorts, hey have you seen my blue shorts? Blue shorts?” My sisters annoyed and jet-lagged and rolling their eyes… It felt so familiar and loud and chaotic and I couldn’t help but smile and think, yes. Finally, mi familia had arrived.

We got on the minibus I hired (complete with plastic seat coverings, cheesy dashboard décor and Lucky Dube blasting on the radio) and headed towards our adventure. Here are some highlights:

Visiting Aji in Saweni

Eating coconuts at Nananu I Ra, and swimming in the ocean at sunrise

Telefunken and girly drinks at The Pearl

Getting pulled over by LTA

Mana Island…Taco’s birthday, massages on the beach, crystal clear water, banana boat rides, lounging by the infinity pool, gorgeous sunsets and ridiculously expensive food

Visiting my Fijian family, taking turns holding the fat squishy baby and jam sessions with the kids (nobody wanna see us together cuz like like you)

Cold lovo at my counterparts house

Meke dancing and grog drinking at Vivili village

Daddy’s happy feet

Taveuni trip with Taco & Case…

Rastafarian captain on the dinky blue boat, beachfront cottage at coconut grove, Raj. Coastal Hiking at Lavena, swimming under waterfalls, garlic shrimp, and tripod at Tovutovu.

And so they came and they went, but they are here, both tangibly and intangibly. They are out in the hammock that now hangs out on my porch, and in my home that no longer smells of mildew, but of febreeze and candles, they are here in Savusavu and in all the places we explored together. They were here when I had quinoa for dinner last night, they’ll be here every time I have cold lovo…

I think that of all the people in the world, they alone could acknowledge exactly what I’m trying to create here. They alone know me to my core and know the things I’ve set out to accomplish from the beginning. And now that they’ve been here they alone can truly understand all that I am becoming.

Familia- I feel so blessed that I was able to share this experience with you…that you were able to see my projects, my life, in this, my new home. And although- as you were able to experience- Fiji does have ways to (literally) get under your skin, I hope that you’ve found a little more peace, knowing and seeing that I am doing just fine. Vinaka vaka levu familia, for everything. For hauling all those suitcases and bringing me things that make me happy and a little more comfortable, for crossing an entire ocean to get to me on your vacation, and for all those incredible memories to add on to our book of journeys.

Y pa’ los que todavia no llegaron... (Chulin, Mario, Nat y Luke…hint hint)

I’ll be waiting always con brazos abiertos…

Wow, I guess I haven’t updated this thing in quite some time. And the truth is so much has happened in the past two months, I don’t even know where to begin… In a nut shell, one of my best good peace corps friends, Ropate went home, so that was hard…My yaca (namesake) was born.. same last name and everything! I moved houses again. (3^rd time’s a charm!) I started a garden, my youth group is growing and we are actually talking about serious, important issues, I finished the World Map Mural Project at St.Andrews Primary… Here are some photos to show you what’s been happening. Life has been crazy, but my family arrives next week! It’s time to wind down, go pick them up and take a vacation. 4 more days familia!!!!

Ropate goes home...

and it rained a lot and the water turned brown....

and my youth group is doing awesome...

and they are thinking of ways to help their communities....

and we're talking about things that are affecting the youth in Savusavu

and my namesake was born...

and I still drink a lot of grog....

and more squishy babies were born...

and i moved into a new house with an awesome porch!...

and the WMMP is finished.

and the kids did so well...

and i love my students....

and isa Ropate, I miss you!

I find so much happiness in having dry paint on my hands and in between my fingernails. I think every piece of clothing I own is stained or ripped and I love that I couldn’t care less. I guess maybe I am turning into a crunchy Peace Corps hippie after all…

I feel a sense of sadness, to be done with the world map project I’ve been working on with class 7 at St. Andrews Primary School. It’s been a while since I’ve felt such a strong sense of accomplishment. Maybe it’s because the World Map Mural is something tangible, or maybe it’s because everyone I worked with on this project has been so receptive and committed and grateful. It’s amazing to see how much the kids have learned in such a short amount of time. They truly are sponges, and it’s so great to see the pride they take in the work they have done, how eager they are to yell out the right answers when I ask them questions about the 7 continents. The truth is I’ve also learned so much from this project… I mean, I didn’t know where the hell Georgia, the country, was before I did this project, much less what its capital was. But I’ve also learned to be more patient, to find pleasure in letting the students carry out the work, to give direction but allow for their own artistic freedom, to give them the opportunity to think critically, to challenge them to own their answers, even if they are wrong…When we first started this project, and I asked them a question, they would blurt out an answer and immediately cover their mouth and shrink down in their chairs in shame, whether the answer was right or wrong… I said they were not allowed to cover their mouths after responding to a question. That it was ok to say the wrong answer, that it was a good opportunity to learn the right one. It has been amazing to see their confidence grow. From a bunch of shy kids afraid to speak up in class, afraid to hold a paintbrush for fear of making a mistake, now they all raise their hands, their eyes open wide and bright as they yell out eager to share their answers… “Madam, I know! I know!” (yes, they call me madam J)

I had the kids place their handprints on the wall under the map and sign their name on each of their hands. I told them that when they grow older and come back to the library they will be able to see how much they have grown when they compare the size of their hands, but also that they will look back and remember that they have done this together, with their own hands.

Today was my last day at St. Andrews Primary. The world map is now completed. We played jeopardy as our last activity and had classes 5, 6 and 8 as our audience. I had some prizes donated from some local stores and included some sector nine stickers (Thanks Kata!) some Bic pens (Vinaka Ropate!) and tied them up nicely with some ribbons my sister Nat sent me. (gracias Nata!) [Presentation is key] We even had judges, a score keeper and a bell! After the game, we all went upstairs to their classroom and had some tea and pastries. They gave me some presents and a thank you card…I was so touched. And as if that wasn’t enough, one of my students, Pate, read me a poem he had written, Noa, another one of my students started crying… goodbye’s are hard. Needless to say, I was a mess!

World Map Mural Project May, 2007

completed World Map Mural July, 2007

Jeopardy

Happy kids

Vinaka to all those who donated prizes!

What goes up must come down. Sometimes I go home feeling defeated. Sometimes I think I think the people I work with don’t really want to be helped. Sometimes I think it’s my fault for taking on a project that I seem to be more interested in than they are. Sometimes I feel like I’ve dropped the ball and I just want to go home.

May 29^th marks the day I left the U.S. I’ve been living here for a year now. Man, time flies. But while it does seem like this past year has flown by, it also seems like forever ago that I arrived and the thought of another year is hard to grasp. I don’t know if that makes any sense at all. I feel as though I’ve lived so much, and maybe that’s why it seems like I’ve been here for so long. Work-wise, I don’t feel as though I’ve accomplished much, at least not as much as I thought I would have gotten done in one year. I’m not really worried about that, they say most volunteers get most of their work done during the second year of service. But living, I feel as though I’ve lived more in the past year than I ever have. Maybe it feels like I’ve lived more because this kind of living has so much more to do with surviving. And I’m not talking about surviving in the TV show ‘Survivor’ kind of way. I mean surviving in terms of hanging on to the commitment of being a volunteer, in terms of facing obstacles in work and in day to day life and in overcoming solitude and home-sickness. Some days I want to give up, sometimes I just want to hang out with my sisters and my friends and hug my mom. Sometimes I want to eat a real meal, with vegetables or be cozy in my socks and sip on a crisp glass of pinot noir. Sometimes we run out of water, sometimes there are a ton of mosquitoes and dengue fever alerts, sometimes I get sick and feel miserable, unable to distinguish a fever with just being hot and sweaty. Sometimes the roosters crow in an unstoppable never-ending chain at any particular hour of the day, which in turn sets the dogs barking, which in turn, leads the babies to cry and then the angry mothers yelling, the neighbor gagging himself with his toothbrush, the “Bollywood” movies blasting…

But sometimes, just sometimes, I get those days where the light is perfect and purple as I am walking home, or when I get an invitation to dinner while I’m jogging, or randomly get asked to come in for a bilo of grog, or when I’m asked to hold a newborn baby, or when my students smile and joke around dancing in class. These are the moments that I wait for, the moments when I understand and value why I am here. Yes, it’s hard at times, most times, lately. But the overall struggle is worth it, at least so far.

The past few weeks have been eventful, which is very unusual for Fiji. I’ve been keeping myself busy with class and preparing for fundraising events. Also- had a ‘professional exchange’ on AIDS/HIV and STI awareness with Rob, my best good Peace Corps friend. He was visiting with his lovely family from Rhode Island and I got the opportunity to meet them all and listen to their awesome accent. I love to hear them say words like: idea = “idear”, apart = “apaht”, Danica = “Dawnica”. It reminds me of Jill and her mom, “Hey Dawni, I lawve youwah apahtment. Get in tha fuckin cawh!” Translation: “Hey Dani, I love your apartment, get in the fucking car!” Hahahaha. Oh, the good old days.

Anyhow, our first fundraising event for Earth Day went really well, despite the unrelenting rain and getting shafted by town council. Town Council gave us a shed behind the market and away from the main road and therefore hidden from view… I felt like we had been ostracized from society! It’s a shame too because we had our environment friendly art projects made out of recycled materials on display. But after an hour of just hoping that someone would walk by our shed, we took it to the streets! We packed up all our greeting cards and went on a mission to sell them all. I made Taki, one of my students, wear a sign with the recycling arrows on it. He was walking barefoot through town yelling at the top pf his lungs “REDUCE! RE-USE! RECYCLE!” It was hilarious! Needless to say, Taki attracted a lot of attention and we used that to our full advantage, selling as many cards as we could. I don’t think my students realized they could actually make money by selling these greeting cards. They were so surprised when I tallied up the amount of cards we sold and showed them the grand total they made on their very first day. Yesterday we made a list of the things they want to see improved or changed with the money we make. The first things on their list were: a brush cutter (they cut their grass with machetes, arduous work!) and new desks for the classroom. It just made me appreciate the comforts I was granted while growing up, like having a desk with a smooth surface to write on… it’s the little things we take for granted.

We have two fundraisers this week before the end of the term, so hopefully we will double our profit and be able to get started on achieving their needs. And after that, a two week vacation!

This is Ropate presenting to my students ...
"And this foamy secretion in and around the penis area is called..."

Learning how to put on a condom...

Earth day.
"There's a kaivalagi! Go get em!"

These are Wati and Suli.
They made an ibe (a Fijian mat) from wrappers

This is Taki.
The curtain behind him is made out of beer bottle caps.


Superman!

Vaka Cegu.

Here are some photos from my class
NAQELEKULA

wood burning bread oven.

Suli Making paper

Wati rolling out moisture from our paper

Stencilling with banana leaves

“Life comes in clusters. Clusters of solitude, then a cluster when there is hardly time to breathe.” – May Sarton

Well, honeymoon in Savusavu is over. I am officially a local. I try to avoid going into town as much as possible, but when I do, it is impossible not to run into people I know or have met at least once. On market day, I buy my vegetables from my regular market lady (caserita), except my fruit, that I get from the cutest little old man who occasionally gives me an extra papaya or a throws in a couple extra bananas… The people at the bread shop who give me the usual, one loaf of medium whole meal and one banana muffin.

I have stopped romanticizing about the beauty of this place. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Savusavu is beautiful, but living here…and living as a local, let me tell you, it is hardly paradise. The water goes out when it rains, [not that I’m complaining, at least I have running water most of the time]. My clothes smell like mildew because of this damn rain too… This time of year, it never stays sunny long enough to hang out clothes to dry…. And the bugs, don’t even get me started on the bugs. I have managed to get a weird tropical fungus thing that comes and goes as it pleases…

Which by the way, my students are… well, they are the reason my head hurts, my feet ache and the reason why I can’t wait to go back tomorrow. I have been working with ‘Naqelekula’, a Methodist boarding school that was developed for school dropouts. The mission of the school is to promote youth development through pastoral, technical, and vocational training. Most of the students who attend the school are kids ranging from ages 16-25. It’s funny even calling them kids, some of them are my age and yet they still call me madam. They’ll say… “Good afternoon madam”, “yes madam”, “no madam”. It used to make me kind of uncomfortable, but then again, comfortable isn’t exactly how I would describe most situations in this experience thus far.

Before I arrived, the students focused on farming and baking as a means of earning money to keep the school running. As an alternative way of making money, I have introduced an income-generating project that involves making greeting cards and bookmarks with local designs. It’s hard working with little to no materials, but we work with what we have until we are able to make enough money to purchase materials and then really kick ass. I have taught them how to make recycled paper and I am teaching them basic printmaking methods, mostly stenciling from whatever materials we can get our hands on… banana stems, paper, even used x-ray film that mysteriously made its way to our classroom from the hospital (this one works best).


One day I was talking to the students about the importance of recycling and explaining to them how long it takes for materials to decompose and thought to myself, why not make art from garbage? There’s plenty of it everywhere, so why not use it and have a small exhibit in town to raise awareness for the environment and at the same time use this day as an excuse to sell our greeting cards and bookmarks made from recycled paper? Environment Day happens to fall on the very same day as Youth Day, April 22nd. My students and I have been busy making art projects out of rubbish, paper and bookmarks and cards, cards, cards… and in between, I’ve been writing letters, proposals, all the not so fun stuff to raise money for my class. I’m working harder as a volunteer than I ever did when I was actually getting paid!

And so, I hope you understand the reason for my delay in updating you all on what’s happening on this end of the world. (Even though most of you are past due on your letters to me!) Besides the Cyclone warning and the flash floods and teh skin conditions, not much new around here… except I’m reading this really great book, it’s called “The Poisonwood Bible” by Barbara Kingsolver. It’s a really great read, about an evangelical Baptist who takes his family to the Congo on his mission during the 50’s. I highly recommend it, daddy- especially you, I think you’d get a kick out of it, and I don’t want to hear: “I never have time to read…” Give yourself some time for you, take a load off annie!

Walking Home

Tropical Depression

Just another Fijian Sunset

Gas Station

This one's for Kata....

Fishing