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...