Home and away !

 Which is home and which is away has become very blurred of late.

My assignment end is just around the corner and I have had a quick trip back to Australia, a place that I have comfortably been away from.

It’s an odd possie to be in, not even a week ago I was in Sydney wanting to be in Tarawa, now I’m in Tarawa packing up to return to Sydney.  Recently someone asked me for clarification when I used the word “home”, no automatic answer came to mind.

Looks like Sydney girls can be found anywhere - this one is in Fiji !

The return trip was to sit in the dentist chair for root canal therapy, but honestly talking over ones troubles, doing some sand play or just drowning some sorrows with a nice glass of wine has got to be easier therapy path. The lovely dentist in Tarawa diagnosed the problem well but the decision to see a dentist in a developed country is what took me back there. With the work done to a stable condition I returned to Tarawa to pack my home at “ocean view” and wrap up my assignment.

I have expected a mixture of emotions and feelings to arise as the assignment end approaches and having a lightening quick visit back gave me the opportunity to dip my toes back in to the shoes of a developed country. 

It’s funny to note the once perfectly normal things that now seem so alien. I sat on a train and marvelled that every single person was wearing shoes, took up residence in the fruit and veggie shop gooey eyed with choice and if I ate any more grapes I reckon I could have been labelled and cellared.

And what a delight to drink water straight from the tap and OMG the hot showers, I felt like a teenage boy that takes eons to get into a shower, then you can’t move them. 

As for the supermarkets, what a maze, I’d forgotten that food came in so many packets, varieties, shapes, sizes, colours, caters to specific needs/markets, offers desserts, snacks, food for kids, dogs, cats, birds and a squillion products to get your clothes clean. As for the dairy section there wasn’t a tin of powered milk in sight but enough cheese to sink a Tarawa supply boat.

As anyone that has read this blog or knows me will glean I am a fan of op shops and giving things a new go at life. Recycling, re-gifting, rethreading, re anything really, I’m up for keeping the wheel of stuff going round.

 The second hand furniture and goods market in Tarawa isn’t big, selective, designer or going to feature in some glossy home or style magazine, it’s mostly us foreigners that who haven’t been sitting crossed legged from the time we could walk that need such comforts. The few items available are unfashionably old and grungy, any western hard rubbish or council throw out is going to run rings around the frayed lounges or occasional table that you’d only want to use occasionally as found here.

When in Sydney one day as I walked to a train station I spotted a gem, a mop with a manual wringer-outer thingo, I slowed down, I perused the item (very good condition with many a wash still to be had) and slowly kept walking as a strong thought urge surfaced, “I’d kill for that in Tarawa” !

The trek here requires at least a one-night stopover in Fiji and a wake up call for the 5 am flight departure. The Air Pacific twice weekly schedule must be the first flight out of Nadi and last Monday I joined the check-in queue with the other bleary eyed passengers. Next it’s a wander by the duty free shops with their eager young shop assistants, 3.30am isn’t a time I have gin and tonic is my mind so I make it to the lounge for coffee and my last dose of real milk.

The Kiribati experience really begins the moment you are on that plane, the smiles, the laughter and the talking to each other from 4 rows apart starts before the rubber of those small wheels even turns. It’s a 3 hour flight that takes off in the dark, where a blanket is needed for those not accustomed to air conditioned and sleep comes accompanied by a cacophony of sounds.  

And this is before take off !

Given this would be my last flight into Tarawa I looked forward to marvelling at the sunrise and the view of the slither of land we would land on. Opps, I seem to have taken up the Kiribati skill of sleeping and wake as we hit the tarmac.

The air stip of Tarawa International Airport - good to see it used wisely !

Before making it to the terminal it’s “Mauri, Mauri and welcome back” and a hug from a local that appears genuinely happy that I have arrived back. Our paths have crossed at the airport on the buses over the past year and a bit, she knows where I work and she knows my people (those with disabilities) and she makes me feel at home.     

I know I am going to miss the people of Kiribati, it is my physical home for just a little longer and the memories will travel with me but for now it’s packing up and goodbyes. 

Happy Easter

Up next - One big Botaki to come 

Friendships and moving on

As I think about heading back to a city life in a Western country many things come to mind along with the sorting and packing of the stuff that has taken up residence in my home and heart.

One such “thing”, is a gift that made it’s way here via the Australian and local postal service (and didn’t take 75days to arrive like a recent Christams card). It changed my relationship/commitment status, has offered an enjoyable weekly activity, looks good, has just the right amount of firmness, tastes yummy and got an outing in an earlier blog posting.  

The time is coming to be parting company with “Mr Sourdough”.

He’s been fed and watered on a regular basis, kneaded, risen to the occasion, complemented simple offerings and learnt to sit quietly. He knows the path from the fridge and back again and will soon take the pot holed road to another home and dinner table.

Looking for a home...........

With quite a lot of free time and only 15 square miles of coral atoll to play on I have taken to surfing the net (albeit very slowly due to assess speed), done a bit of shopping (window and real) and now preparing to change my virtual relationship status.

Do I leap or take steps  ?

Do I take the dive and go from “in relationship” to “single” in a solitary bound or do I take the side road and go “it’s complicated”. 

Actually it all sounds too complicated ………….

Being here is not unlike living in a country town. Forget the six degrees of separation, it’s a small place and everyone knows everyone or in the case of many of the locals they are related somehow. Each of us develops friendships /relationships of varying depths and interests within the small expat community or via work, but for the most these friendships are new. I have some that started face to face in Australia at pre departure briefing, some that wandered along a virtual path as I tried to answer queries and give a “real” picture of life here as they prepared for their adventure here and others that have developed over the tennis net.

Keeping strong

Relationships are funny things, to be in and to observe.

Recently I spent a day with 2 couples, each partnership clocking up 33 years of marriage. Well done and the greatest delight is that they appear to still to have great love and respect to each other and for their commitments.

Against a backdrop of culture that start having children very young, have big wedding botakis (or elope), show little or no affection to each other in public and seem to go from one partner to another this day was an affirming occasion. 

Making love, well recycling stamps that say love !

As I start to say my goodbyes to friendships made with people of all ages, and twist another dance to the fast paced “Kiribati” beats I know I think and feel differently.

It’s a changing world and 14 months in Kiribati is leaving some wonder and angst in my heart and mind. I expect it will take some time for the sand to settle in the jar of muddy lagoon waters and the next chapters of re-settlement back in Australia to uncurl. In the mean time friendships made will continue to play an important part in life here and beyond.

Friendships and time with the people that I spend almost every day with, the ones that laugh at my attempt speaking Kiribati, the ones that make my arrival at work a delight, the people I sit next to on a geeko  weed desk or grass roofed  Mwanabea, are going to be  missed terribly.

The time is coming to say farewell to those that have called me “one of them”.

Te Toa Matoa are real people of Kiribati, on the ground doing what they can for “their people” others with disabilities.

The days to laugh, dance and enjoy their smiles and friendships are coming to an end.

 

 Street performance with TTM

Up next:   Departure count down

  

Discombubulated

 I like this word and have been waiting for it’s rightful place to put it to use, it would be a winner on a scrabble board if only 13 tiles were up for grabs instead of seven. 

Apart from the fact that the Kiribati alphabet doesn’t have all those letters it is my word for right now.

 It is just the right word to describe the out of sorts feelings that come and visit, the ones that challenge and change ones ideas and view, the ones that get out of the black and white and take up a possie in the grey. At the best of times living here is filled with extremes, contradictions, ease, hardship, heaven and hell on earth and no two moments the same, let alone the roller coaster ride thrown my way this last few weeks.

 Beauty from my back door

Every day, hour and minute spent in Kiribati changes how I feel and see the place. Some days I seek and soak up the beauty seen through rose coloured glasses, other days old worm dusty lenses present a warts and all view, a picture of a culture filled with harm and suffering. Even closing ones eyes it’s hard to imagine a Jesus led pathway that the increasing numbers of missionaries here appear to be sharing with these people. And if mwanabea filled bingo sessions and kava bars run by the churches here are leading people to a life free of suffering and unity with their given saviour then I just don’t get it.

New stock - glow in the dark numbers

Most places, towns, countries are know to have their “people”, the ones that sit on the fringe, shine some light through the cracks, enjoy their own solo conversations, maybe look more dishevelled than others or are just plain out there. Tarawa has a few, not even a handful really but I like them. Stepping out and being different in a collective culture I imagine is not an easy thing, maybe they have arrived at their place unintentionally, who knows but I like what appears to be community acceptance and the role they hold.

Yes, they may be part of a very small number of people that ask for money but they take rejection or a banana with equal acceptance and smiles. One particular chap I like has the Kiribati gift and talent that seems to bind all beings, he sings with and for the angels, or any audience really.

  

This dude had everone in the square laughing and clapping, and he winked beautifully at me !

 

I knew coming here challenges would be presented, just knowing what they would be, look and feel like was always unknown. I’d like to think these last few are it for my quota.

My bus waiting record has been broken (5minutes short of two hours!!) so my patience is back in check, 4 rice starved and territorial dogs took to me and induced a fear I have not know before (along with a bite on the bum, a bag torn to shreds, much yelling and a car coming to my rescue) and now the lovely young dentist tells me I need 2 months worth of dental treatment !

Looks like my old stomping ground have moved to Tarawa !

 

Just as I have been packing up my years worth of op shop filled treasures and preparing myself for the shock of returning to Australia my focus has come back to the here and now, getting through the days and daze that is Kiribati.

Up next : Not even going to guess that one !

A year on and lessons in patience

         The New Year has come and settled in and now its first month can almost be ticked off.

I have always liked the feel of January, the madness and mayhem of the end of the previous year is done and dusted and replaced with something that is more relaxed and casual.

Only now I’m still in Kiribati, not the plan this time a year ago !

My 12 month assignment date has come and gone and instead of joining the summer festivities on the Australian East Coast I’m sitting here wondering what I was thinking in wanting to extend my time here in woop woop !

For the most this place can be an easy place to be, as long as you take a shine to its offerings, its people, its rubbish, its rice and fish, its crap (dog and human), its mad buses, its pot-holed road, its loud music and its program. 

And don’t expect too much.

 Pig teeth, coral and a seed pod

It has offered me a very present and engaging life, every sky is different even when viewed from my unchanged front door, rain offers almost instant relief and freshness from the heat and coconuts fall from high above leaving a trail of smashed windscreens. 

 Clouds that add delight to my day

Surprises and challenges come daily and are probably best dealt from a present alertness than from raging triggered emotions or rolling eyes. 

(Fingers crossed my record 90 minute wait for a bus to work doesn’t get broken  ! )

 Coconuts reaching for the sun, the clouds and the gods

Challenges yes, they are guaranteed, especially on the fortnightly payday when everyone hits the road, for walking, transport or sleeping off the days offerings or when the shops run out of rice or loo paper or there’s no tuna or it’s another three days of no internet/power/water.

 Tuna delivery anyone !

For over a year my adopted manta has been around using the opportunities that come up anywhere and anytime for developing patience, it now seems that notion has gone on a summer break.
For the most this mantra has served me well, patience has been learned and practiced, I’d even say for a while there perfected except perfection is a far to unrealistic ideal.

As the start of 2013 rolled along and those self-help happiness tips on the www invite you to check how those life-enhancing goals are shaping up I started to think about what this year may bring and reflect on the one past.

Maybe I’m a slow learner but it’s taken me over a year to get to a point of actually wondering what I am doing here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean !

Twelve months in a developing country is peanuts to think much can be done, yes a canoe got launched and a couple of community awareness projects reached many people. But at work I still need to clear away the geeko poo and dumped stuff to find a space on the desk, find a chair to sit on and last week relocate another litter of kittens from under my desk.  I was starting to think I’d seen it all until after the New Years break when I returned to the office and it had been turned into sleeping quarters, complete with mat and pillows ! (the office is only about 10 x 8 feet)

 My workplace, the mwanabea and the white building is the office

Some big stuff has been achieved and there is always the small stuff wherever one goes, it’s just that now the small stuff the books tell us not to sweat is given my patience a workout. 
There’s no water cooler to gather around to gripe or discuss which contestant really has the “X” factor or a kitchen to fill in time by making everyone tea, 

it’s just my holidaying patience and me.

The waves roll in and out gently washing the discarded coconuts husks and rubbish to another place and the hungry tide gathers more sands leaving us all exposed and vulnerable.
Challenges, opportunities, lessons and stuff will continue is various shapes and sizes with this assignment and beyond, and with less than 3 months before leaving here my thoughts are turning to the what’s next.

 In a tea cup of course !

Now where’s that water cooler ?

Which movie to see ?

What do you mean no one has to sit on my lap on the bus !

Getting a job, hmm, the bills still need to be paid....

 Up Next : Not sure........

Launching a canoe without getting wet !

I could never be described as a “salty dog” type preferring to keep my eyes in sight of land, even if it is as small and fragile as it is here in Kiribati.  But coming to such a place to do unknown tasks has meant at least one thing,  getting my toes wet.

Early on in my time here one of the tasks identified was to get a canoe sea worthy and safer for some blind and physically disabled people to use. (see earlier post).

  

looking old and tired

The project came about with assistance from several other volunteers, one who involved his consulting company in South Australia to raise funds for the materials and one who is on assignment at the local boat builders. It was great to see what could happen when like minded people put there heads and heart together.

I had not seen the canoe in action but had been informed of the difficulties in carrying people safely. The initial assessment of the canoe apart from being a tad tired and lack of maintience found no structural issues to hinder the boats safety. Hmm, something is a miss here, even this land loving city dweller knew something was astray, but I was happy that the boat builders had some ideas and suggestions.

As the months rolled on waiting for the materials (glue, timber etc) to arrive I carried on with other projects and it was at one of these, a workshop on an outer island that I gleaned what the problem actually was.  Up there projected on the screen for all to see was a picture of the canoe, I did a double take, OMG it’s got half of Tarawa on it, this is a canoe that was made to carry 3 people ! 

In a country were I have been passenger number 33 in a 16 seater bus why should having 4 times the amount of people on board a canoe be a surprise ! 

Salty dogs are smart, especially ones that build boats and have been here awhile (30 plus years), the makeover on the canoe included reshaping the top front (sorry Mike & Ray for the lack of technical terms) so that ones bum will slide off. This canoe now has reduced the sitting space for said bums and has added floatation in the pointy bits (confirming lack of technical knowledge).

So after 9 months the canoes makeover has been completed and she’s come home, to the brilliantly turquoise coloured lagoon waters of Te Toa Matoa, the peak Disabled People’s Organisation in Kiribati.

 Collection day after her makecover, Ione, Rocket, me, Ray & Sion

Canoe are like family members here, especially for the subsistence living people and those that want to generate some income by selling fish to the rest of us. The proud collective owners rebuild a structure for the canoe for protection from the elements and re-launch plans were quickly actioned.

The occasion and celebration was about a month ago but still vivid in my mind. The morning was filled with cooking, cleaning and decorating and everyone was in on the day with tasks to do. Watching a 72kilo Yellow fin tuna get made into a variety of dishes and tasting coconut traditional desserts as I wandered past the outdoor kitchens and fires really felt like I was in reality TV show, maybe a cross between Survivor and Master Chef !

 Cooking up a storm

As the afternoon cooled guests arrived including the Kiribati Deputy President and the Australian High Commissioner. The “program” was set and proceedings started 5 minutes before the scheduled start time (absolutely unheard of in this country !).  Songs were sung, heads were crowned with beautiful garlands, speechs given, dancers showered with talcum powder (a display of appreciation) and the pandus ribbon across the front of the canoe was cut. 

Dancer performing the garland dance & duties

 

Earlier in the day I inquired as to how many people it would take to lift the canoe the 20 odd foot from it’s shelter into the water. I didn’t get an answer or one that made sense to me and now understand why. This canoe launch wasn’t about getting it’s toes wet, the day was one of celebration, not work or fishing, hence she sat in her new home soaking in the admiration and beaming brightly for the camera. 

Keeping dry in her new shelter

The wonderful food was enjoyed, the band belted out a variety of tunes as the guests twisted on the coral dance floor and the canoe kept dry.

A month on and she’s yet to hit the water !

UP NEXT : A year on and new beginnings.

Equatorial Christmas

This week it feels like I’m jumping from the pan into the fire for my first Christmas here on the equator, hot, hot, hot with extra high humidity added for festive discomfort.

 One shop taking the simple approach !

Kids in chrissy deco mode

 

Commercial interests have increased in the time I been here and yesterday I found more evidence, several shops filled with the normal cheap Christmas “crap” found in western countries. I haven’t seen any animals bigger than a pig here but neon reindeers, flashing antlers and even a sheep can now be found amongst USB plug in snow flakes and Santa outfits that would give any diet guru more than a dreary hot flush.  

Cutting & pasting

 

It looks like this year really is throwing the cat amongst the pigeons, not just in free market trading but also in shop identification. For several years there has been a shop (as in one) that had "Merry Xmas" written in neon lights across the front of the building, the lights have never come down, hence it is known as the “Merry Christmas” shop (much easier than remembering where it actually is or pronouncing the village name).

Who knows next year it may be santa shop, the Jesus shop (just opened this week selling lots of Marys) and the new Merry Christmas shops.  Without any post Christmas sales next week I'd suspect any Christmas stock will sit there ready for next year or until some highly paid consultant comes in and suggests having Christmas in July!

I’m not one of those Christmas/Christian bar humbugging types and I don't subscribe to any creation theory but really I wouldn’t complain if Christmas was moved to a bi-annual event.
 But like most people I don’t mind a celebration and reckon goodwill, being merry, showing compassion, sharing meals and time together are pretty good ideas and actions. I’m also a bit partial to the old carol singing, Christmas cake and hand made cards to induce a warm and fuzzy feeling.  

This year I have kept to my normal simple Christmas routine, made a fruit cake with 4 imported ingredients (1 kilo of mixed fruit, 2 cups of prune juice and 2 cups of SR flour & almonds on top), made a swag of cards from recycled materials and 30 odd lanterns (somehow I knew 11 months of loo rolls were going to come in useful !)

 Hmm, prune juice...........

 

Lanterns glowing the way

An absolute delight this week was the brass (well, silver) band turning up at work in 2 trucks, off they jumped all 26 of them complete with home made matching music stands to play carols and whatever other songs they knew.

The dance moves to the Hokey Pokey were a treat as was the amount of coral picked up to hold the music sheets from blowing away in the impending storm.And I loved the big, big drum complete with BYO chair to hold it up.

 Carols, coral & hokey pokey

As for Christmas day, there are about 20 of us I-Matang left here getting together for an orphans gathering. Should be fun, the present giving is the ol’ Kris Kringle, only this one is to bring something from home that you want to get rid of (wrapped spouses and kids optional) or bringing a treasure from the op shop.

On that note, much merriment to all, may the fat man in the red suit find a chimney near you and may the bottle of wine I have finally scored sip slowly through my lips.

Up next : Back to launching a canoe without getting ya feet wet !

Dogs and Gods

Praise the dogs and gods of Kiribati (of which there are many), after 5 nights of no power and water I have now been rescued from being a really, really mad

I-Matang.

It was feeling like a de ja vu or a ground hog experience. No, much more than a feeling it WAS a repeat experience from when I first arrived in Tarawa 11 months ago. 

First the gas run out (I new that was coming) then the power was cut off which means no pump for water. So no gas, power and water for one day then after travelling the length of the island gas was sourced so coffee could be brewed and food that wasn’t going off in the fridge cooked.

A trip to the department responsible for the electricity supply and billing confirmed that yes, the power had been cut off and the outstanding amount due was almost $500 !!! Whilst I needed my glasses to do a double take on the figures I didn’t need glasses to see that an old card file system had resurfaced, one that didn’t have my handwriting on it.  Same account number and house location, just different era!   

Where you go to pay the electricity bill !

The wisdom and administrative efficiency employed to manage a system held on from British rule had had a dusting and unearthed a previous tenants account. Of course someone has to pay and us I-matangs like to have electricity so let’s turn it off ! It was eventually worked out that no, it’s wasn’t my bill and when asked if I’d get the power turned back on that day the standard answer was given.
"Yes”, which can and often means anything but that !   
So with the next day being a public holiday followed by a weekend it meant five waterless days and candle lit evenings.

Hmm.. the electricity supply

Under a moon lite sky and with the lack of mechanical chill more things started to bubble and brew. Mr Sourdough took the inopportune time to become “active”. I really was feeling heady, hot and sweaty and wanted to try the “not tonight I’ve got a headache” line but know that opportunities need to be grabbed when presented and kneaded with two hands. 

I fell, I stumbled, I scummed to the aroma and fantasy that only a good sourdough can arouse.

Silence, the soft glow of candlelight, a warm balmy breeze AND gas meant one thing, we have rise to this occasion again. Me and Mr Sourdough had the evening together. 

As the morning sun started to sneak it’s rays across the low tide and the neighbours played yet another I-Kiribati song on their mobile phone I stirred with a sense of knowing deep in my heart. 
A beginning was starting to, well, start, this was a new morning, change was occurring and rituals were being challenged.

 Sunrise from my front door 

The big breakfast that I once knew had a new loaf on the block, sweet was being swapped for sour, yolks were big and bright and some greens were added, not just because it was law. (Kiribati must be the only country where it’s law to serve a green when selling a meal!).    

Mr Sourdough has taken my heart

My plate was filled with colour from a treat that couldn’t be washed off, a step along a path to somewhere had been taken, it was a night that deserved a celebration. 

For the time being Mr Sourdough is back in the fridge, next time I'm hoping to take the lead and we'll hubble and bubble to the beat of my drum. 

Up next : Launching a canoe without getting wet !