Life in the Ring of Fire Part 59: Meet the Newbies

This week's Tautu language word is “nik.” It means “you.”

While Laura and I were in the Maskelynes, the new group of Peace Corps volunteers, who'd arrived in Vanuatu back in September and been in training, went on wokaboat (walkabout), a week-long visit to the villages where they'd be spending their next two years. We were slated to get two new volunteers in Malekula, one in Norsup and one in Wowo, a village in the north near Laura. I was somewhat concerned about the volunteer to be placed in Norsup, because Norsup is only about a fifteen minute walk from me, and I'd actually been informed the previous week that, while they'd be working in Norsup, they'd actually be living in Tautu. Having been the only white person in Tautu for almost a year, I'd become somewhat territorial and was not really sure how to respond to the information that I'd now be sharing my site with someone. Laura and I were somewhat disappointed at not having been at the airport to greet the new arrivals, so Sunday afternoon we called McKenzie from the Maskelynes to get the scoop.
“They seem pretty cool,” McKenzie informed us.
“That's not very helpful,” I said.
“Hey, what do except,” she replied “I'm sitting in the same room as them.”
“Well, go outside,” I suggested.
“Ah, Jesus, really?”
“Come on, this is important. These people are our future.”
“Fine. Hold on.”
--pause--
“Right,” McKenzie said, finally, “I think we're going to be OK.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Marie claims that margaritas are her favorite drink,” she continued.
“Well, that's promising,” I agreed.
“And Karen's a little older, but she seems like she's still down for partying. She's the one going to Norsup.”
“Alight,” I said.
“Also, they both claim that they can cook.”
“OK. Good. That's good.”
“Yeah. Can I go back inside now?”

We spent Sunday night in Lemap, and hoped that the river had gone down enough over the weekend to allow a truck to take us up to Lakatoro the following day. Jack's host family drives the trucks that run between Lemap and Lakatoro and Jack's host brother told us he'd be by Jack's house to pick us up at 4:30am Monday morning. This being Vanuatu, we naturally assumed that 4:30 meant more like 6 or 7, so we were pretty shocked when the truck actually showed up on schedule. Standing in the back of a pickup as it sped its way north to Lakatoro through the morning dimness, I experienced a sensation I hadn't felt for a long time: cold. I was actually, legitimately cold. Not kind of cold, or passingly cold, but, with the crisp morning air slicing its way through my t-shirt, actually cold. I wasn't entirely sure how to respond to this, so I decided to just roll with it and that it would probably go away in half an hour or so. Speculations began amongst our fellow passengers as we neared the river as to whether or not it would be passable. Word was the they'd tied to go up on Sunday but had had to turn back, which didn't bode particularly well. About an hour and a half into the ride, I saw what all the fuss was about, the river was pretty formidable. Well, OK, not really formidable, I mean we're not exactly talking about the Mississippi (and yes, I did sing the M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i song when I wrote that. And now you are too). The river was about fifty meters wide and maybe two feet deep. Not exactly a journey-ending obstacle for the traveler on foot, but I sure wouldn't have been comfortable driving a truck through it. The driver got out and stumped up and down the river a few times, frowning and muttering periodically. “We're good,” he announced at last. It was no longer a mystery as to why trucks rarely last longer than couple years on Malekula. We forded the river successfully (no oxen or party members lost... What's that a reference to? Anyone?), although the truck did seem on the verge of being torqued over in the middle of the river.
“They should building a bridge already,” Laura said.
“Yeah,” I concurred.
We both agreed that we would be angry about the lack of a bridge for the remainder of our service. I mean, look, we're not talking about the Golden Gate here people. All you need is your standard length of stone/metal/wood spanning a void of the variety that could have been built by, for example, the Romans over two thousand years ago. In the end, however, we did make it back to Lakatoro that morning and got to meet the two new volunteers before they headed off to their respective sites. They did, indeed, seem “pretty cool.”

On Tuesday I got giardia. Well, actually, I don't know what the incubation period for giardia is, so I might have contracted it sometime before, but on Tuesday symptoms of giardia became apparent. I was actually pretty stoked. Up until that point I hadn't contracted any kind of bizarre disease/parasite, and I was a little upset that I would be going back to the US in December and would be forced to tell friends and family that the most exotic aliment I'd wrestled with while in Vanuatu was the common cold. Giardia is an intestinal parasite transmitted through contaminated drinking water. Those of you outdoors-y types are no doubt familiar with giardia, as it is a common concern when camping, hiking, or backpacking. You know how when you eat a really big, greasy meal from some dive diner and a little while later your stomach informs you that it is not terribly pleased with you at the moment and you spend the next hour or so on the john? Having giardia is kind of like that, except it just doesn't go away. All in all, it's a pretty good disease to contract because it sounds really hardcore to say that you've had it, but having it is really more of an annoyance than anything else. Also, to treat it, you just take four pills all at once and, a few hours later, magically you're better. They really need to work on more medicines like that.

On Friday we put on a party for our newbies. They both came into Lakatoro on Friday and reported to have had enjoyable walkabout experiences, which was good because we were counting on them committing to two years here, as we're in desperate need of new volunteers to replenish our diminishing numbers. We decided to go with a Mexican night theme in celebration of the fact that one of our local stores, The Consumer, had started carrying tequila (well, it's not ACTUALLY tequila because it's not made with 100% agave, but it does have “Tequila” written on the bottle and says “Hecho en Mexico,” which is about as much authenticity as you can hope for around these parts). This, combined with ice from Mindi's freezer and the blender I purchased in Australia allowed us, for the first time, to make frozen margaritas in Vanuatu (suggested listening: “Margaritaville” by Jimmy Buffett), which was simply amazing. We also had chips and salsa which, in Vanuatu, requires a three hour long process to prepare. First, you have to make tortillas then cut and fry them to make chips. Then you have to chop tomatoes, onions, peppers, garlic, and squeeze limes for the salsa and either mash it all together or throw it in the blender. I find it hard to believe now that chips and salsa are given away, free of charge, at most Mexican restaurants. We followed this up with fajitas and tacos which, due to the fact that they were prepared after most of the margaritas had been drunk, were a little haphazardly put together. All and all though, fun times were had by all and we closed the week optimistic about our new blood.