Becoming Aelan Boe: Integration

Integration: the goal of my first 3 months (now 4 months) of service in the Peace Corps. With a different training style, Peace Corps adjusted pre-service training to last only 2 months (opposed to the original 3 month training) and bring the PCVs back in for 2 weeks of training after 2-3 months at site. In regards to Community Health Volunteers, our training was backed to March 1^st, opposed to February 1^st, because our Program Manager needed to go to training in Washington D.C. from mid-January to mid-February. Disregarding the delay of our first months of service the main goal of these first months is to integrate into the community and thus make working in the community on such sensitive subjects such as Sexually-Transmitted Infections, Domestic Violence, and why you should wash your hands with soap after going to the toilet. Additionally, we were given the option of performing a Community Health Survey (not a requirement); I chose to perform the Community Health Survey, but that is a different story too and will have to wait. Now I can explain the complex intricacies of the integration process and my vast repertoire of techniques.

Seven Lock, Kava, Wokbaot: Roksta blo vilej blo mi

Scratch my chin, spit, relax, and repeat. This is essentially the key to my integration. One day, market day, all the people were at the market house, right next to the Nakamal and I had just come to “storian” with everyone at the market. Most people in the village use market day as an excuse to drink kava early and not have to cook (because they can just buy “already-pr)epared food” at the market). Anyway, as I was leaving I proceeded to eye one of the Mamas at the market, as she asked me where I was going, I told her: bae mi go lo haos festaem lo karem wan smol samting afta bae mi kam bak lo ples ia (I will go to my house to grab something then come back) and after I scratch my chin. From previous posts you probably understand the significance of this: I told her I wanted to drink kava. The Mamas, who were sitting in a group, burst into hysterics as I walked off all awesome-like. In another situation I was walking with Jennifer and came upon a group playing Seven Lock. Seven Lock is the card game of Vanuatu (kad gem blo yumi), no other card game is played by Ni-Vanuatu. I’m not going to go into the details of the card game. It’s entertaining-to a point-you are forced to play it for quite long stretches of time and almost every day. Regarding the game, you try to get rid of your hand first and you throw down cards matching the card in the center (suit or number/face card). Each card has a numerical value and if someone throws down the Seven of Heart (Seven Lock) before anyone has emptied there hand everyone must total the number in their hand and the lowest total wins: this results in almost everyone saying “Lock’em” every time someone is about to throw down a card. Now, as we walked by I started saying “Lock’em” to the group playing cards (I didn’t have to guess that they were playing Seven Lock for the above reasons). As we continued to walk by one of the guys in the group started the kava spit with the Swa-A and I responded with the spit: S-Fee. The group exploded with joyous shouts.Now the kava spit has become an important part of integration, with the chin scratch. I frequently hear now, as I walk through the village the beginning of the spit: Swa-A. I am expected to finish it with the S-Fee. The funny thing about the spit: it’s part of the custom with kava, but most of the people are too self-conscious to want to draw the attention. Lucky for me, I have no humility. Essentially these things have been essential to integration and a few more things have made me: wan man Naviso finis mo wan Aelan Boe.

Due to the fact that I enjoy running long distances it has made it quite easy for me to want to walk long distances and to get anywhere in Maewo, from Naviso, you must walk long distances. On top of this, years of running has pounded my feet into oblivion making it much easier for me to walk around barefoot for long distances. Now I’m not saying this is easy because it is far from easy. The bush roads to Naviso are ridiculous (another story) and most of the roads have sharp rocks all over them and make my feet feel horrible, but unlike many volunteers whose feet the rocks would cut, my feet come out considerably less mangled. The walking all over Maewo and the sometimes barefoot walking bring out some of the more significant adjectives in the Bislama language: yu fit, strong, Aelan Boe. Additionally, thanks to me being a hipster and all, I could not resist the urge to buy an Aelan Basket (basically a messenger bag or “murse” made from local leaves) and only use the Aelan Basket when I wanted to “wokbaot”. The Aelan Basket (which would run about 3000 Vatu-30USD-in Vila) cost me 150 Vatu at the local market-1.50USD-quite a deal! In a nutshell, those were my integration techniques and have seemingly worked majestically. It might be because I’m just such a likeable person, but that would be too arrogant to say.

    

The Guy Everyone Knows and Loves: The Niceties of Maewo

The great thing about Maewo is that everyone is super nice. Everyone on Maewo knows who I am also: I’m Nik Naviso, the first Peace Corps on the Eastside. Since everyone on Maewo knows the difficulty of getting to and from Naviso everyone wants to help me out and this basically results in free food wherever I go as well as really nice faces who all want to talk. This isn’t only for volunteers on the Eastside. Nic Thiltges at Telise Vilej receives quite the same response when he walks up and down West Maewo.

Some examples include the time we were walking back from Naviso after Christmas and had just reached Telise Vilej. Our group had split up and I was walking with Jennifer, from Naviso, and Megan and Kara from Ambae. As we reached one house, we were immediately greeted with: Nik Naviso, kam, yum as spel smol wetem mifala, mifala jas bin karem wotamelon ia lo karen, bae yufala i kakae mo spel smol (Nik Naviso, you must come rest and eat this giant watermelon we just brought from the garden). Now mind, this guy new me and I might have met him, but I’m pretty sure I meet 10+ new people a day. After we finished as much of the watermelon  as we could and the remains were bagged for us to take we walked for another ten minutes before another family insisted that I take some corn they had just finished cooking.

Another time (part of another story too, which I will go into later: The Doti Waetman of the Not) Nic Thiltges and I had walked to the North, after we got back from our New Year on Ambae, to find a truck to take Jennifer, me, and our Chinese Handbags (from before we left Vila, another story for later: The Journey of the Chinese Handbags). As we reached one of the truck owners in the North, we were given an assortment of different food from crab to buttered bread to rice and meat. Additionally, as we left they decided to give us cold sodas and some meat for dinner from their ice box; this was the first time we had ever met these people.

Lastly, as Nic and I walked back to Telise from the North that same day, a man came from nowhere, out of the bush and said: tufala Nik, yu go wea (Two Niks, where you going)? After he proceeded to hand Nic Thiltges a giant bean he had just grabbed from the garden and had happened to be holding: the niceties of Maewo. Now, all my examples have been on the Westside, but don’t get me wrong this happens on the Eastside too. The thing is these stories were times where we really shouldn’t have expected anything. Not that I walk around the Eastside expecting to be given food. It just happens quite often that I’m walking around and given ridiculous amounts of food that I can’t possibly finish. This is one reason market days can be a death sentence for me. Beyond food, I have been offered multiple places to sleep in case I ever happen to be in their village when it is dark and I have to stay. Basically, I can walk all over Maewo and be completely provided for wherever I go: something I did not expect in the Peace Corps. Now I just have to do good by them to make sure the next volunteer, who replaces me, hates me when they constantly compare them to me.