October 1, 2007

It is 0333 on Monday morning, for everyone back home in California it is only 0933 on Sunday. Happy Birthday Cassandra. By the time I get into town to send this it will probably be a week late. I am laying in my bed of my new home for the next 9 weeks or so.

The day started with a lot of packing. It reminded me back when Jeff and I took our trip to Europe, trying to find the perfect arrangement of clothes and gear into a my bag so that I could be as streamlined as possible. I feel like a have a ton of stuff, but then I look at my colleagues and realize I have half of the gear that they do. In time I will see if they brought too much or I did not bring enough.

At 1400 or so (island time,) we climbed into a couple of buses (mini vans) and headed for Moncalilu. Moncalilu is only about 20km away but takes about 40 minutes to get there due to the steep hill and the horrible condition of the sealed road (pavement.) The crushed coral road is actually in much better shape then the sealed road.

Once we all arrived at the village we headed down the main road to meet the chief. We came to the village entrance where a man dressed in only a little grass mini skirt and a band of flowers around his head blew a conch shell three times. It was a very beautiful sound, what we did not know was this was the call to the warriors which interrupted the beautiful sound of the conch with there war cries has they bombarded our group. They ran at us with spears and clubs, screaming and crying. They did a great job of hiding as no one in my group had seen them. The group was made up of all men and some young boys. It was a great welcome.

We were then escorted by them to our chief where the country director and he exchanged ceremonial kastam mats. After some brief thank you talks and a short prayer we had an adoption ceremony were we all were adopted by a host family. I feel very lucky to have been put with the family I was.

They are a young family. My father, Sasa, is 36 and my Mama, Kathleen is 28. I have three Ti’s (siblings.) The oldest is Luke (pronounced with a strong e), age 10 followed by Asana, age 6, and then little Frances. Frances is only 2 but will surely be a future rugby player. He is like a little ox. Kathleen is also pregnant again and I will have another brother or sister in February.

Kathleen’s father is my Papu, or grandfather. He is also the Chiefs twin brother. I have not found out yet how his brother was selected over him. My guess is that his brother was born first. We all live on the same lot, which comes with great privileges like a light bulb on my porch for when the chief runs his generator. Don’t worry I do not have any other electricity in my house. By the way even though I live with a host family, I actually have my own traditional house to my self. So it truly is made out of coconut palms for a roof, woven bamboo for siding and a tree in the middle for a center support. My floor is made of woven mats. I have a raised bed, with a mosquito net surrounding it. There is one table (no chair) and a shelf. Oh and of course my kerosene lantern to light it up at night. I will send a pic when I get a chance.
Now while this was the first time I have ever seen or met my family, I know for a fact that that Noah has seen my Tarti (grandmother) and my Papu’s brother, as he is not only famous here in my village but has been on a major television show back home in the states. When Survivor was filmed here in Vanuatu they filmed it here in Mongalilu, actually right in my new backyard.

When the cast arrived by Cruise ship they sent out a canoe to get the new contestants. The person paddling the canoe is actually my host Tarti or grandmother. After the contestants came ashore they were greeted by my Papu’s brother, the chief. He only spoke to them in our local language (not bislama) and gave them a shell of Kava.

The chief also performed the pig killing ceremony and wiped the blood on the contestant’s faces. My Mama and the pikinini all laugh when they tell this story about how the people looked away in horror when the pig was clubbed to death. For them this is just life and there is nothing strange about it.

I did not realize when I saw that Survivor was filmed here that I would actually be living in the same village it was filmed. My family recalls the story while laughing and giggling. They have very fond memories of the Survivor experience. At least for the American version, two more Survivors were filmed here after, one being Australia and the other France. They said the Americans were the most hospitable. They hired the villagers for almost everything, would feed them the left over food, and left all of there tools and wheelbarrows behind for the villagers.

We discussed this over kakae (food/dinner) tonight in front of my house. My grandparents are also hosting a Pis Ko volunteer. So she instantly becomes my aunty, or in Bislama my Ted Bridget. We will be having most of our meals together as a family unit. It is a nice time to storian, or share stories. My Mama is great. Her sister told her to take the tulok down to the welcome ceremony for everyone to eat, but my Mama said no we will just let our family enjoy it! Just so happens that tulok is my favorite dish here, so both me and my ted Bridget were very excited to have it for dinner, along with some hot Lipton tea.

I slept pretty well, until about 0300 and then about 0330 the roosters began there first wake up calls. It is now about twenty to five and if I do not fall back a sleep I may get up and go for an early morning swim before class. The ocean is about a 45 second walk. Ahhh yeah! What a life!!!!