coconut and coral in the middle of woop woop: It's time to clean the office ..................

It’s a few months since I started at this small community organisation and one of the successes in the first month was tackling the office and seeing the wood for the trees.

It’s a nice office, louvre windows on three sides, a door and a space that measures about 11 x 8 feet. Maybe not state of the art or designer built but it does have selective stunning views and fresh breezes. My favourite view is about 15 feet away onto the beautifully coloured lagoon which doubles as the locals bath house, another is to the mwanaba, a meeting place and home to a dozen or so people with disabilities and their families and the back view is over the dusty road to the ocean about 70 meters away.

The fittings, er, there’s none of them, the furniture, they are simple and do the job. Most days I would secure one of the three chairs and I balance my laptop on my knees or on the empty guitar cardboard boxes, that’s after I’d brush away the mouse/rat poo and wipe the gecko wee away. There is a good wooden desk and two smaller ones that have found there way from KIT (that’s what painted on them - Kiribati Institute of Technology) and a low small wooded structure that is complete with some rusted binders and home to a rather large ant population. Sitting proud and dusty is a printer/fax/phone that’s waiting to be bought back to life and a laptop that’s had more experience with social media than I have had hot roasts.

I spent weeks graciously accepting whatever space is available, carrying out poo identification exercises, tying the flapping curtains back, learning how to unlock the door without the lost key and wondering what I am actually doing here. Of course playing with the children who don’t actually care what I do, and laugh beautifully at my attempt to speak the local language take up a good slice of the day.

The staff here are two local women, the formal line is that one works full time and the other part time. There are days that they just don’t seem to turn up or do arrive at some stage of the day. I have had moments worrying that this “I-matang” (foreigner) asks too many questions and I have scared them away. The chairperson for the organisation works out of the office a couple of days a week and several other members pop in to access the net, so some days it can be a bit like musical chairs complete with walking aids and artificial legs.

Leading up to “clean up” day I started making enquiries about the office, asking how it may feel with a bit more space, given a sweep and the like. For the most, polite responses were echoed and I was feeling encouraged, but I have now gleaned why the idea of sweeping the concrete floor wasn’t such a hit. To sweep the floor and displace the extended ant family actually meant moving the chairs and desks about and using cleaning tools, this really was work.

Agreement is sort of made on the “clean up day”, as in, “OK let’s tackle it tomorrow”. Knowing this is going to be a hot and sweaty job I dress accordingly and get on the bus with my bucket of cleaning goodies. Happy that I don’t get charged for my extra luggage and constantly juggling my bag and bucket I proudly arrive at work carrying my trophy and knowledge of what to do for the day. I arrive to an empty office and busy myself with checking emails thinking I should wait until my work buddies arrive. They arrived, it was before lunchtime, they too checked emails and the Pacific version of the RSVP, agreed it was a good day to clean the office, and that was the last I saw of them !

The see through office complete with rice bag

My cleaning angel !

My resolve was high and I was prepared to go it alone, in my mind I’d mapped out what needed to be done and dreamt of the result. The door was opened and out went the three chairs, one which fell apart, next was moving out the many binders with their faded letters identifying their mostly empty contents. This is when my cleaning angel arrived, a local woman and member of the organisation who lives right across from the office. She is the mother of one of the children whose name I can pronounce. This woman is a born organiser and decorator, no dreaming, scheming and pussy footing around here, she tucked in, new exactly what to do.

I gently relocated a bucket of ants and sand to the beach secretly hoping I’ve taken them far enough away that they wouldn’t return and she’s busy washing out the ant holes, with kero !

Om Mani Padme Hum

I’m thinking an ants life in Kiribati wouldn’t be too bad, but my cleaning angel knows this land and it’s harsh environment, she know what needs to be done and does it.

Getting into the corners

By end of day I have successfully introduced “office makeover ” to the activities this I-Matang likes to do. Maybe a rain check in a few months will be the telling of mine, theirs and the ants resolve, but I have a sneaky suspicion as to that answer, and I don't think it will be mine. The occasion does call for celebration and a photographic record takes place to sit happily along side a dusty memory and my dry throat.