Outer island experience

I am happy to report I did get a seat on plane to Nonouti even if I did have to pick it up off the floor and balance it on the frame (which was firmly attached) and play hide and seek to find my seat belt. With my 14 fellow passengers, an aisle filled with Kiribati national bags (20kilo rice sacks that are used to carry everything and anything) and numerous square plastic buckets (another hold all) I knew I was alive as my heart thumped away at our impending departure. At least small planes give you a great view of the cockpit and in this case a distraction included a delightful young co-pilot in his white short sleeved shirt and beautiful skin.

There is certainly more ocean than land in this part of the world and the coconut palm covered atolls just seem to emerge from the shallow lagoons and ocean. Nonouti is in the middle of the 11 atolls south of Tarawa (main atoll of Kiribati) so from our small plane we were provided with some stunning views and as we got closer I had a growing excitement for the adventure about to un-fold. I was looking forward to meeting up with my group of 60 people with disabilities and their families however my sense of wonder of where I was actually going to be sleeping was causing a bit of anxiety. There was nothing else I could do I “knew” I just needed to go with it. (lesson no 1. letting go)

View from my second to back row seat - that's the cute co-pilot on the right !

 Nonouti airstrip and terminal !

 Nonouti has a population of about 1800 people who live in 9 very traditional villages. Transportation for the atoll is made up of 8 or 9 small trucks (which carry anything and everybody) along with motor bikes and lots of push bikes. I was met at the airport by the “yellow” truck and about 20 people from the village, after confirming the return flight and given the front seat of the truck it was off to my first traditional village. 

I was (sort of) prepared to be sleeping in the mwanabea (grass roofed meeting place) with my 60 best friends but had forgotten about the other 120 or so that actually live there too ! These villages get some visiting I-matang (foreigners) and I think this village had had one visit last year, they were very open and keen to have me amongst their guests. To my delight I was provided with a kia kia (small grassed roofed hut) for my accommodation, 8 of the young men moved it over so I could be right amongst the goings on and if they could have got it in the mwanabea I’m sure I could have had centre stage. It had a grass mat inside and by the time I rolled out my yoga mat and added the mozzie net a couple the young girls told me it looked “beautiful”.

 My "beautiful" kia kia in front of the Mwanabea.

 Some of the dogs that took to living under my kia kia,  

just wish they were that quiet at night time !

Unfortunately I or the kia kia didn’t feel beautiful for the first 3 sleepless nights, not a wink. As each night passed I was think “I cannot do this”, counting down the days I still had to go my mind would wander off to what if I’m here for 2 weeks, or have to take the boat. It’s not unusual for flights to be cancelled as they need to fix the plane and the boat that was proposed to take 2 days to get here took 5! With a personal locator beacon amongst my belongings I was figuring even thought it may only take 4 seconds for Canberra (or Japan if they are busy) to receive the notification it would still take days for a boat to come to my aid or a plane small enough to land. These thoughts kept me busy but not asleep. So much for all that practise meditating and work of trying to calm my mind, these monkeys were jumping about and busy and I wasn't sure how that would look on the emergency response report.

  I knew I was coming here for a celebration, perhaps I just hadn’t given enough thought as to what “celebration” may mean and how long these celebrations may go on for. I hadn’t counted on sleeping next to a whirling generator that powered the fluro lights and provided the power source to the band and techno music that thumped out until dawn, or having 4 big male dogs move in under my kia kia that brawled all night or the amount of peeing that was to take place just outside my “beautiful” home or the pigs that would be cooked next to me ! (lesson 2 – be more curious!)

I managed to have some naps during the day, fell sleep whilst lulling in the water swimming and  did my share of head nods whilst sitting cross legged at the functions that went on for hours and hours.

Then it happened, I danced and laughed so much that night 4 I crashed and I slept and I dreamt and I awoke recharged. 

These have been my worst days in Kiribati thus far, but like many experiences I was about to enter my best days.

Up next : Thriving on my “outer island” experience 

Outer island visit

Today I take to the skies, well that’s the plan, I have a booked, paid for and confirmed ticket to fly to an outer Island called Nonouti, but that’s no guarantee of a seat! I will catch a local bus to the airport for the allocated check in time and hope that I am one of the 12 or 13 that do actually get on the plane and keep my fingers crossed that it does depart.

The purpose of the trip is to meet up with the members of the organisation I am with who have travelled the 250 kilometres south by boat as past of the villages Mwanabea celebrations. The I-Kiribati truly like to celebrate and the anniversary of the villages meeting place along with weddings and first birthdays are significant occasions. For this celebration the group have been invited to write and perform songs for the celebration and after months of planning almost 60 people with disabilities and their family members are there now and I will rejoin them later today.

Last Friday was the boat departure day, wheelchairs, babies, kids, bags of food, water bottles, a drum kit, guitars, speakers big enough to blast an atoll and basically everything but the kitchen sink was packed for the trip that I had been told would take between 18 hours and 2 days ! It took 5 small truckloads to get everyone and everything to the boat, the trip I travelled on had 30 people on the back of the truck, 2 wheelchairs and loads of “stuff”. 

I spent many hours watching the goings on, climbing on the boat and hanging out seeing everyone set up home on the boat ready for the journey. It didn’t take long and the cards were being dealt, the ukes being played and the beautiful voices filling the air.

Ok, time to catch a bus to the airport. My bag weights the 15 kilo plus more, I have  my yoga mat to sleep on, mozzie net, sleeping sheet, vegemite, enough miso to keep me going for a month, lollies for the kids, an “aussie” cap as part of gifts, chalk for the kids to draw on the mwanabea and enough wet ones to attempt to keep refreshed in some way.

Trust I will have plenty to report back, some stories and lots of photos.

Up Next : Adventure in Nonouti 

The voices of angles.................

As I sit quietly working away on my laptop, the sun has almost set and I hear the familiar “Mauri Mauri” and I turn to see seven missionary clad I-Kiribati people looking at me.

I’m sure they would have knocked politely on the double doors had they been closed instead of left wide open inviting the evening air, bugs and now angels in.

Sitting alone in so much space they must wonder why us I-matang (foreigners) have so mush stuff, have to sit on chairs and don’t wear our clothes inside out. Or maybe they just don’t clutter their minds with such things and just happily travel their god given path.

Smiles and some words were stated, maybe not all understood by either of us but I soon piece together they are a choir from a church offering to sing, and I can give them something in return !
My mind goes straight to the sounds of some great black American gospel singers like Aretha Franklin, Al Green and Mavis Staples, I’m uplifted already and transported to my own slice of heaven.

Beautiful church glass

I had heard of these local visitors and I make enquiries as to which church and village they are from. Turns out they are a catholic choir but with little knowledge of each others first language I didn’t learn from which village church they were from. They keenly listened to my words as I tried to sound knowledgeable telling them of my one excursion to a Sunday mass with the people I work with. With smiling faces and a keenness of meeting a fellow traveller of the soul their enquiry turned to what religion I was. I have come to learn this is a "tick list" question the I-Kiribati people have when meeting new people along with ones age and marital status.

The brownie points I thought I’d scored were quickly overtaken with faces of disappointment as I responded with “no, I’m not catholic”. Any attempt to explain that it was the religion I did grow up but I had jumped ship really was going to be just too challenging. One day I am going to make a note of the myriad of the Christian faiths here and probably confirm that I am the only Buddhist on this atoll.  

My visiting angels were keen to sing for their supper and for the green tobacco tin held tightly by the lead lady, so I sat on the arm of a lounge chair as my choir stood on the concrete steps with the wide opened double door embracing their beautiful harmonies.

After a few songs praising gods virtues my mind has turned to calculations and trying to piece together an appropriate exchange I can offer in return. Should the contribution be per song, per person, per minute or is it possible to purchase my very own lottery ticket to the great unknown ?

I love the use of colour and simplicity in this church

Over the months there have been a few doorknockers offering such things as fresh clams, to do the garden (with is mostly crushed coral and ocean) or a deaf man that produces a letter seeking assistance. Some turn up on “pay day”, experience had taught me to be kind and generous but the balance is giving enough to show appreciation that allows access to food but not enough that has them following our addiction to money and our purchasing of happiness.

I settle on a few gold coins (Kiribati has yet to develop their own currency and runs on the Australian dollars), the coins make their way to the green tin and they appeared happy enough, but haven’t been back !

Amen.

NEXT UP : An outer island visit 

A canoe needs fixing

I came to this role in Kiribati with a job description, a sense of humour and little idea what I was actually going to do here. 

The title “salty dog” is not one that springs to mind when thinking of my interests but getting a canoe sea worthy is a task that has been put to me early on. To me the canoe (which was not in the water) looks fine, it’s painted nice colours and has this big outrigger bit on one side (as so do all the other boats here that aren’t called “better boat”). 

So I ask what’s the problem ? The canoe was built for the organisations members to go fishing for food and to generate income from selling fish but isn’t stable and safe enough for the people who are blind or wheelchair bound to use.

Someone must have decided that "tinnies" are beter than traditional boats

As expats here in a developing country we often go to our fellow volunteers or countrymen and women for ideas and sharing of stories and it didn’t take long to get assistance for the canoe. The local boat builder where a volunteer is placed offered to fix the canoe and another volunteers workplace in South Australia did a fund raiser to pay for materials and other costs. That was the easy part and happened before I gleaned an real understanding of what was meant by “pacific time”.  In the meantime the canoe made a great cubby house and gymnastics beam for the surefooted kids that really are children of the sea in this water locked country.

 

The initial plan was for the canoe to have the out-rigger removed, loaded onto a truck and be moved the 30 odd mile to North Tarawa along the well used and pot holed road to the boat builders. To my limited boating and transportation knowledge this seemed like a good enough plan. But with weeks turning into months and not being well versed in removing out riggers and booking trucks I was starting to wonder how and if this boat relocation was actually going to take place. 

But this is Kiribati, they are people of the sea and do like to consult widely and discuss such things and change their minds! So after much discussion at a committee meeting that takes place in a Mwanabea (grass roofed meeting place) it’s decided to tow the canoe from another boat that has an engine across the lagoon. So with lots of hand movements and translation I ask questions about the canoes safety, where we get a boat with an engine, inquire about weather conditions and as to who would actually do this ???? 

The people here are  very polite, they describe me as being “very curious” (I must remember this when back in Aust and I have a nosey parker wanting to know everything) but it is decided to move the canoe on Thursday of the following week. Ok, that’s only 8 days away, I go with that and feel pleased that there is at least a plan before I go to Fiji in several weeks.

About 3pm the following day I was greeting with “nei Leigh, the boat is here to move the canoe”. Great, now I have a boat with an engine and a very heavy canoe that needs to be carried about 200 meters via the busy road to the lagoon and lot’s of blind or physically disabled people to assist. No worries, a loud whistle and we have about 10 strong bare footed high school lads on their way home from school ready to assist. So it’s a quick phone call to the volunteer at the boat builders (who hadn’t yet been informed that the canoe was to be arriving next week), a guess at how long it will take to tow the canoe to him, a plank of wood handed over to make a rudder and off went the canoe. Just over an hour later the canoe arrived safely ready for its makeover.

Canoe with it's helpers almost to the lagoon ready to be towed

It’s a bit hard to say how long it will take at the boat builders to undertake the alterations and unfortunately the volunteer there has come down with dengue fever so things have slowed down. I am only a third through my time here so there’s still the opportunity to have this one ticked off the “to do” list by the end of the year.

She's in the lagoon

 

 

 Some of the traditional canoes have outboard motors otherwise it's paddle power !

Up Next : the voices of angels