Meet the Cast.

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.

JO- Lambubu
Canada

(This is me, clearly.)

CYNTHIA - Emua
Canada

MC - Lalinda
Canada

SAMUEL - Lambubu
Vanuatu

Showing off his Boy Scout uniform.

IVEN - Lambubu
Vanuatu

Shown here with Ingrid, the chicken I tried (and failed) to save from her fate as supper.

TIM - Lalinda
Australia

"Tim Van Rock: This is your Present."

LUCY - Lalinda
Australia

Lucy (left), shown here with MC.

ANNE - Lalinda
Canada

Anne, a.k.a "Funny Man", and her conservative one-piece bathing suit.

HENDRY - Emua
Vanuatu

Shown here with his bug on a leash.

REBBEKAH- Lambubu
Canada

With the silverback gorillas that live in the Australian Outback (or so she thinks...)

TARA - Lambubu

Australia

Big momma hen.

EMMA AND JULIE - Emua
Vanuatu

Julie (far left) and Emma (far right) getting ready for a night out in Vila with myself and Becs.

JESS - Lambubu
Canada

Jess (right, and smiling) is happy to shower in the rain. This is one of my favorite pictures of Jess (and there are many ) because of the sheer joy she found in bathing using raindrops that were dripping off the roof of the Rat Hall. Note: she got clean, but Becca (left) only made herself brown and streaky.

ZACH- Emua
Canada

Shown here receiving a gift from his host mom.

JACQUI and THOMPSON - Lalinda
Canada and Vanuatu

Jacqui (left) and Thompson (right) getting into the rowboat that will take them to Ambrym.

DAVE - Lambubu
Canada

The man of the house. And the only white man on the island. Gotta show your stuff...

ERIN - Emua
Australia

COURTNEY - Emua
Australia

Courtney (left) doing laundry with Cynth.

ROSE - Lambubu
Vanuatu

Beautiful sister Rose shows me why she likes kindy.

RONNA - Lalinda
Vanuatu

Ronna (center) shown here with MC (far right), Anne (second from right), Jacqui (second from left), and one of their Ambrym friends.

NICOLE - Lambubu
Australia

Posing on the swingset.

CURTIS - Emua
Canada

A-coconut drinkin'.

MEGHAN - Lalinda
United States

Meghan makes coconut milk from scratch in Vila.

REHAP - Lalinda
Vanuatu

Rehap (right) and Anne shield themselves from the Pacific rains.

So here we are.

This is where our story ends, and another one begins.

This is where I stopped writing in my journal, living solely in the moment rather than trying to make ways to remember them - that's kind of what journals are for, I guess, I've never kept one before.

The moment we stepped off the plane in Vila we were confronted with the reality that we had less than 48 hours left in Vanuatu. We had reports to type up, de-briefings to partake in, and souvenirs to buy for our families, ice cream to eat, and beer to drink. But most importantly, we had a short time left to cling to the Ni-Van challengers, as well as the Australians and other Canadians, with whom we would soon be parting ways. It was fast occurring to me that the Pacific Ocean is very, very big.

We were reunited with the Emua and Lalinda groups. We laughed, we sang, we shared stories, we danced, we drank, Jess and Tara got horrifying gastro, the rest of us kept drinking. We stayed up all night, we laughed some more...and then we had to leave; it had never hurt so much to see the sun come up. If I thought that leaving my host family was hard, it was nothing compared to leaving this group of inspiring youth who I was priveleged to be in company with all summer. I started to cry at least an hour before we left the Scout Hall - these goodbyes were ones that I just couldn't handle.

One last song...

Lambubu

Lalinda

Emua

All of the Ni-Vans came to the airport to say goodbye, honoring us with the traditional line-up and handshakes. By this point the handshaking ritual had become almost routine, but this one was long, drawn out, and soggy. As I'm writing this right now, four months and one day after leaving the Republic of Vanuatu, my heart hurts and I'm crying, missing my sista Rose, my Iven, Samuel, Morsen, Julie, Emma, Hendry, Rona, Thompson, Rehap, Joel, Barenda - not to mention all of my Canadian and Australian friends, the other group leaders, and the wonderful staff at the YCIV office.

Rehap: the great inspiration.

Rose: my sister forever

I cried most of the way back to Sydney. While our Vanuatu tale may have come to an end, it was nowhere near over for us yet. Liesa stayed behind, leaving four weeks later to be group leader for another project on Tanna, which from what I understand, was very, very successful. Nicole and Tara also stayed behind to explore the islands more. Jess and I traveled through Australia for three and a half weeks together, and either you've already heard my crazy stories, or you probably don't want to. Morsen also went with Liesa to Tanna - those two work together like spaghetti and meatballs. Samuel has a job, I think, building furniture at the resort on Irikiki - Cynthia tells me that Julie has a job there too. Rose wants to be a teacher...and Iven, Iven I'm sure will become a soccer star or something like that. We can't forget also to think about the past and future participants of this program, what they've gained, and what they have yet to gain and experience.

Gudfalla group leaders: Morsen and Liesa

It wasn't even that hot out, but I cried so hard I made myself sweat. And Cynthia (right) lives about ten minutes from me in Ottawa.

The money that I contributed, that you all helped me raise, for this project, allowed for the participation of these nine young men and women in this summer's projects. Not only did they work on the same six week short projects that we did, but they were part of a larger, more intensive program that had a one year life span but which will have lifelong repercussions. They were given computer skills training, language training, team building workshops, and employment services. My group leader, Morsen, was a YCI challenger last summer - he was actually in Lalinda, and shared a host family with Anne, so technically I guess they're brother and sister, even though they were there at different times - and went on to take on a different role with us this year. I am so proud to have gotten to spend time with these people, and can only hope that in some way or another I will find a way to be a part of their futures, which will unquestionably be bright.

August 3 - Lambubu to Norsup to Vila

We're at the "airport" right now in Norsup - I put airport in quotations because it's not what you'd imagine an airport to look like, even on a remote island. When the trucks pulled up, I looked around. "Are we stopping here?" I asked Edline, who had accompanied us to say goodbye. "This is the airport," she said sadly - sad both because she had become very attached to many of us, and possibly because she was sad that the airport was in such a decrepid condition. Once I got used to the idea though (which I did, because as per the norm, we've been waiting a long while for our plane to show up from Santo...) it really wasn't that bad - it does the trick, and from what I understand, planes don't crash as much as boats sink (there's the paranoia in me coming back...where has it been for the last six weeks?) Norsup is tiny, but there is a small restaurant where we had ice cold drinks for the first time in six weeks.

The airport at Norsup.

Airport 2.

The view from the beach at Norsup.

Would you want to leave this behind?

Earlier today, the entire community lined up outside of the Rat Hall to shake our hands, say final goodbyes, for real this time, and see us off. It was one of those amazing yet heart wrenching moments...because in all likelihood, I won't see these phenomenal people again, although I hope one day I will. Dora gave me an island dress before I left, yet again, surprising me with her generosity and kindness. We took some photos on the work site and reluctantly, very reluctantly, detached ourselves from the workers we had become so close with and the community we had begun to love and cherish like home.

Goodbye Kindy.

Goodbye Team.

Goodbye Brian who works at the co-op....and goodbye my island home.

We stuffed all eleven of us, plus Edline, Wells and Naomi, who weren't ready to let go yet, and all of our luggage and equipment into two tiny trucks and drove through the jungle up and over the mountains to the other side of the island. The tears turned into joyful songs, signature songs that will forever remind me of my time in Vanuatu and of my Canadian, Australian and Ni-Vanuatu family. After we get weighed (to make sure that we are not too fat fat so as to bring the little plane down) and the plane comes back, off we go...

Bad Moon Rising, Revised.

Another one...

To the tune of, wait for it..."Bad Moon Rising."

I see a bad moon rising
I see trouble on the way
Don't go out tonight, it's bound not to be alright
There's a bad moon on the rise

I see hurricanes and lightning
I see volcanoes straight ahead
Don't go out tonight, it's bound notto be alright
There's a bad moon on the rise

I see rats sleeping on my bugnet
I hear them chew my underwear
Don't go out tonight, it's bound not to be alright
There's a bad moon on the rise

I see a dark cocoa plantation
I see Becs streaking through the trees
Don't go out tonight, it's bound not to be alright
There's a bad moon on the rise

I see a black american gangster
I see him drinking coconuts
Don't go out tonight, it's bound not to be alright
There's a bad moon on the rise (x2)


So Morsen thought he was a black American gangster. We were a little skeptical of his ability to be as such while drinking coconut milk out of a bamboo straw. He soon decided instead that black Canadian cowboy was more his style, much to Jess' content.

Jess and Morsen, wetem flannel mo axe!

Disclaimer: The author does not take responsibility for racial references made in this blog. I am solely recounting events as they transpired, without altering any language. Whereas in Canada, one would probably refer to oneself as an "American Gangster", or even just plain old gangster, this was not the case in Vanuatu. Furthermore, back home, we probably would have called me and the other Joanna 1 and Joanna 2, but over there it was insisted that we be referred to as Black Joanna and White Joanna. I found this a little uncomfortable at first, but then thought back to Yael's comments back in Sydney about the difference in "political correct-ness", or the abscence of it altogether, in Vanuatu. Things are different there...and you just have to go with the flow, as long you don't feel you're comprimising any of your own good values.

Brotha, Fire! - The Crazy Song, ft. Kalo Robbie

(To the tune of something Dave made up)

Olsem wanem, mi askem yu
Yu ansa hemi stret
Mi askem yu, yu go long wea
Yu ansa, mi go long walkabout...

CHORUS:

Brotha, fire, FIRE!
Numbawan, numbatwo, FIRE!
Yu no climb up hemi tabu, mi kan no kasem yu
Sista yu keep two feet on the ground

Olsem wanem, mi askem yu
Yu se no harem gud
Mi drink tumas kava mo mi danis wetem ladies all night long...

*CHORUS*

Olsem wanem, mi askem yu
Yu se mi missem yu
Mi likem yu mi wantem yu kam lukem mi bak long Vanuatu....

*CHORUS*

Our Bislama may not be premium, but this song went over really, really well. Numbawan, by the way, means "excellent"; I didn't realize this at first, so when the construction workers would say "numbawan" to me on the work site, I didn't really know how to respond, so I would say, "numba two!" I did realize that they were saying something of a positive nature, so when I needed reassurance that I'd done something properly, I would ask, "numbawan?" and they would answer, "numba two!" Whenever the men would see me around, they would shout, "Numba two!" ...it took me about two weeks to realize they were making fun of me. No wonder everyone in the community thought i was "funny and fat-fat."

August 2 - Malekula is crying.

Last night we wrote a song for Kalo Robbie entitled "Brotha, Fire (The Crazy Song) ft. Kalo Robbie" because in the past five weeks our lyric writing skills have improved tremendously. We thought it would be nice to sing it for everyone to get some smiles, because everyone is pretty depressed that we're out of here soon. Liesa then thought it would be a good idea to go GET Kalo and the others, and despite my incumbent stage fright, we sang it for them and had a good laugh. It was a good moment, and I couldn't help but thinking how lucky I was to be sitting around that fire instead of on that boat. Kalo told us that he thought of us as family, and that meant more than words can ever express. (He also gave me and Becca money for kava last night, and told us that when we were gone, he's look up into space and think of us...I don't even think we see the same stars in our hemisphere, but it doesn't matter. He's so great.)

Numbawan!!

At about 5 a.m., just about when we would have been waiting to get on the boat at Lits Lits, the heavens poured down on us, only for about 3 minutes. It was torrential rain, the likes of which I'd never seen before, and I took it as a good , good sign that we weren't getting on that boat (not that we were lacking in other signs) It was still dripping this morning, enough so that I (finally!) wore my 10 dollar yellow rain jacket to go to the toilet - Malekula is crying, she's sad that we're going away.

We went swimming today, despite the rain. We have nothing else to do, and we knew that it was our last chance. We are out of toilet paper, so we drip dry, and we are out of all food except for yams, so tonight Jess and I are preparing the 1st Annual YCI Lambubu Yam Festival.* We'll make yams in every which way we can possibly think of - boiled yams with coconut milk, boiled yams WITHOUT coconut milk, fried yams, yamcakes, roasted yams, purple yams...yams yams yams in all their glory! We have nothing to go with the yams, except coffee-flavored beverage, but that's ok, because yams go well with yams. Beer also goes well with yams, but that, my friends, will have to wait until tomorrow.

*YamFest 2006 was a great success; however, the peeling of the yams gave me an itchy rash on my neck.

Becca and Jess, preparing for the 1st Annual YCI Lambubu Yam Festival.

Me sharing a loving moment with my yam.

August 1 - Still here..

Yesterday was our "last day" in Lambubu, but of course, it really wasn't. During the day, we packed, said goodbyes (which we've said again, and again, and will probably say at least two more times) and then we had a wonderful surprise - Dora invited us to share a meal at her house across the street. They have been such amazing neighbors!! She made us three cakes (because she knows we like her cake best) and had prepared a speech which brought us to tears, again. I've met a lot of people here and I'll never forget anyone in this community, but I'll REALLY never forget this family. They have touched my heart in a way that I didn't realize was possible, and their kindness succeeded in melting this ice queen into nothing but a pile of salty tears.

Clockwise from left: Samuel, Dave, Ivan, Becca, Noela, Elizabeth, Me, Bruno (hiding behind some hands) and Christopher.

Afterwards we went back to the field, but as I expected, it was even worse than on Sunday - not a safe place, and I was really concerned for Becca's mom and for Nandia. Becca punched a drunk man who grabbed her, and Dave's dad was embarrassingly shitfaced. I really, really wanted to be there to laugh and dance and party, and was jealous that Dave got to do that, but it was a bad scene and geting worse quickly. So we (the girls) went home and hung out by the fire with the host moms (Note: this is when Liesa asked our mothers if they wanted to shit on the fire, instead of sit around the fire...) It was lovely and nice and I wish I had more nights so that I could do this again.

Johnston, Tony, Robert David and Dave celebrating Vanuatu's 26th Independence Day.

Today we found out that we were not leaving today, as originally (but not really originally) planned, but instead on Thursday, by PLANE! Plane plane plane plane plane! I'm pretty damn thrilled - not only do I not have to take that godforsaken cargo boat again, but I get to view Malekula from the sky. I feel awful for the Lalinda group, who caught the boat this morning. *



*Anne, Jacqui, MC and the others took the big cargo boat from Ambrym to Vila. The cargo of the day happened to be pigs and cows. When the van dropped us off at the scout hall after our brief flight from Malekula, many hugs were exchanged, as good friends had been separated for six weeks. "You guys don't smell as bad as we did after we got off our boat," they said. Whoops...

July 31 - Leaving tomorrow...

Yesterday was independence day. A big deal in a country that's only been self-governed for 26 years! Not too much was going on in a day (a soccer field can only be so full in a community of 200 people, the majority of whom were resting from the previous night's festivities in order to make sure they were in shape for the night to come..) After dinner, we joined the crowd at the field, me having made the conscious decision to drink kava one more time, risking making an ass of myself and being caught by Tulsi and Kathy, who think Jess is somewhat of a tart because she frequents the Nakamal more often than the other international female volunteers. Last night was the first night since I've been in Vanuatu that I've been told that there is cause to feel unsafe - Joanna, Rose and Naomi all warned us that it wasn't safe for us girls to walk alone at night anymore, and they were probably right. Jess, Becca and I were all solicited for sex, and I had my ass grabbed about a thousand times. There are people in Amelatin now from all over the island who have come to celebrate with friends and family - to them, us white girls are still a novelty. I think it will be even worse tonight - we are under instruction to operate as a unit, and we're not allowed to walk back and forth from the field unless we're accompanied by Morsen, Samuel, or Iven.



In our community, it was alright for women to drink kava, but by being modest and showing shame we made it all that much more appropriate. To be discreet, we had Iven acquire the goods and transport it to us in our Nalgene bottles (ohhh, mountain equipment co-op, what ever would I do without you?) and we had a bush party, Vanuatu style. Jess and I peed in the bush. We may or may not have had a little too much kava. We went to sit down, because Becs wasn't feeling so hot, at which point Jessica took off, which in the current situation was a bit worrying. I, being the least drunk of them all, freaked out when we couldn't find her after about 10 minutes, and organized a search party, which we executed until she emerged from the forest a good half hour later. She had been sick, fallen into a garbage hole, lost her shoe, ripped her skirt, and cut her leg, all while the village men watched on curiously.

Iven, Jess (pre-disaster), me and Samuel.

We must have had a bad batch, because everyone threw up all night.

Tomorrow we're leaving, so today we're packing and cleaning. I'm thinking about Canadian food and about how I have fallen in love with the people here and don't want to leave. My heart hurts - I know I'll probably never see most of these people again, although I did pinky swear Kathy that I'd come back in 2011 with a husband. Guess I better start working on that one...

I gave Bruno my Canada ball, Christopher my (Kelli's) hat, and Noela my shoes this morning. I hope they'll think of me when I'm gone.

Noela, me, Bruno and Christopher.

July 29.

The past couple of days have been full of ups and downs, moments where I'm in love with everything and moments when I feel like this was the worst thing I ever could have done. Wednesday, I was at work, and Dave came pummeling down the road. "JO! I NEED JO!" he was yelling, "Come now!" he said, grabbing my arm and dragging me (albeit not so reluctantly) away from my sanding responsibilities. "What is it?" I asked, thinking I'd done something tabu. "You're going to love this. You have to come," he said. So I went.

Earlier that week Dave and I had been talking about music - he studies music (jazz) at Malaspina College in Nanaimo, and I mentioned that I would do anything to hear some of my music (i.e., not string band, as much as I love that stuff) out loud, as opposed to through my crappy little three dollar headphones that I bought at Paddy's market prior to leaving Sydney. So that day, to my surprise, Dave had stolen my cd's from my under my bugnet and arranged for Peter to play them over the loudspeaker that they were using to make announcements during Sports Day. I was ecstatic, and decided that it was time to share the love - the love of country music, that is. We spent that afternoon teaching the kids to line dance to the tune of Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy, and other classic country tunes, and it was way, way more fun than the shower I could have been taking instead. I never did shower that day...

EVERYONE likes country music.

I was in the highest spirits I'd been in since arriving in Lambubu, until I had my evaluation with Liesa and Morsen. They said some awful things, and I have been feeling bad about myself ever since. Why did I come here to begin with? What good have I done anyone? I thought that having studied development I would have at least a little bit to offer...but the things that were said to me made me fee so grossly misinterpreted, and I was also quite upset that there was no effort to balance out all those bad things with any sort of recognition of the strengths that I do have, because it's not as if I've done no good here at all, is it? *

On Thursday night I decided to put my bad mood aside (what good was crying next to the lone cow going to do my, anyway?) because we were hosting our final dinner with our counterparts. We had a wonderful dinner, the highlight of which was when we all sang Lean On Me, all together - 3 countries, one song. I was more chipper on Friday, and Morsen had come to apologize to me for making me upset - whether or not that meant he regretted some of the things that were said or not, I'll never know - and I made my peace with him. Jess and I had a good long talk, and tried to come up with a strategy for me to be able to get along better with Liesa and enjoy the rest of our time here - then I got drunk off of 2 glorious beers (this is what happens when your body is void of all alcohol for 5 weeks) and decided that I wanted to be super duper extra nice to everyone again, especially Nicole. ** Our boat sank, or something (communications is somewhat of a problem here...) so we're not leaving until Tuesday. I want to have an exceptional last few days here.

Last night we celebrated Samuel's birthday (with a whopping THREE cakes - thank you Dora), and the construction guys joined us - we had a super late night which involved a bird pooping on Jess' face and watcing a Bob Marley tribute in Jamaica featuring Erykah Badu and Queen Latifah on a contraband TV in the soccer field. Sigh :)

Happy Birthday Samuel!

*I don't think it's necessary for me to share any further details of my evaluation here. While I admit that I'm somewhat of an open book, those words will haunt me for a really long time already, and writing them out again will only dredge up old negative feelings that don't need to be revisited. I don't want to highlight the negative in this project, I want to highlight the amazing things, because there were lots of em.

**Nicole, if you ever read this, I was a horrible bitch to you, and the way I treated you while on project is my biggest regret. I was a wench, and I'm sorry. You're an incredible person and I look up to you a lot.