November 9, 2008
I'd first like to address the fact that Barack Obama is officially our president elect...and one day if I have children I can say " I was at a bar on a beach in Fiji with fellow Peace Corps volunteers watching the excitement in Grant Park on a tv the day Barack Obama made history." I wish I could have been amidst al the excitement at home, but celebrating as a peace corps volunteer in Fiji was pretty good too.
Some of you may have noticed that this update is a little late...sorry about that, it's been a busy one. I started off the month with a week of training that happens once a year with all of the volunteers. It was great to see everyone, to share ideas on how to get projects off the ground, and to be reminded that there 31 other people who are going through similar situations and challenges.
After training, we had a few days off, so I was running what many would consider a youth hostil from my flat in Navua. Mattresses covered the floors for a few days and a bunch of us spent numerous hours on the beach snorkeling, catching some rays, and kayaking. Fiji really is a beautiful country--I can't wait until I get to travel a bit more north to do some diving in the reefs.
The World Women's Craft fair was a lot of fun. I started off the week on a 4 hours bus ride with just women...and just like anywhere in the world, when you subtract men from the equation the result is one large singing and dance fest. During the two days of festivities it was great to see the women get excited explaining how they had made their crafts to all the tourists. The women from Navua brought quilts and mats they had made. One of the ladies also makes chutneys and snacks that she sold out of the first day because they're so delicious. Some of the other volunteers were there with their local women's groups selling bags, mat, chutneys, and honey. I bought some honey bottled in an old jam jar & I have to say, it is way better than that stuff we buy in America that comes in a plastic squeezable bear.
One exciting thing to happen in the world of health here was the arrival of a donation of HPV vaccines. There is a limited amount, so the health department decided to vaccinate all girls between the ages of 9 and 13. I took a two day trip with some of the nurses into the interior to hit all the schools inside the mountain last week. It was my first time to see all of the villages in my disctrict, most of which are hidden inside of very green mountainous areas, with few resources within any reasonable distance for walking--especially in the sweltering summer heat. The cultural taboo against talking about sexual and reproductive health was definitely a challenge though. Several of the villages completely rejected the vaccine, and several took some convincing because they were unaware of anything related to cervical health. Less than 10% of women here ever have a pap smear, and cervical cancer is the leading cause of cancer among women in the country. Most of the time, women don't know they have it until it is so far progressed that there is no way to cure it. We're hoping that by introducing this vaccine, and getting women talking about the virus, more will recognize the importance of taking care of their health.
November is the launch of women's fitness classes which I will be teaching until a few more women in the community feel confident enough to lead them. The dietician and I also made news with our Saturday day camp that is running for three weekends this month & ends next week. Using information collected during the school health team's routine checkups, it was found that about 1 in 4 kids here are overweight or obese. We invited those shown as obese to the day camp where the kids participate in sports, swimming, and nutrition classes. We're hoping that at the completion of the camp, the kids will be aware of more games they can play that don't necessarily require them to join the limited number of sports teams around, and be able to use locally grown foods to create healthy menus for themselves and their families.
The holidays are approaching, and I know I'll be missing home a lot more than usual because of it....fortuately I've created a small family away from home amongst the other volunteers as well as the people in my town. While I'm cooking up some homemade raviolis for the other volunteers, know that I am thinking of you all at home and hope yours is blessed with family, good food, and a good snow.
September 19, 2008
“Woman found sleeping under a bush.” That was the news-breaking story on Fiji One News this week. The news anchor went on to tell the horrific details of the story, “a woman in her 60’s who is thought to suffer from a mental illness was found sleeping under a bush. Authorities are unsure of her identity of origin. Police are requesting any information on her identity from friends or family.”
Such is the culture of community. I’m in a country that has limited access to resources—and yet no one goes hungry and no one is homeless. Everyone has a village to go home to, or a family to care for them when they can’t care for themselves. A person can’t go hungry because if I have something to eat—even if it’s just one apple—and you don’t, we share it. Coming from a land of plenty with still plenty of unnamed, unnoticed, uncared for community members sleeping under bushes and next to garbage cans and under overpasses; this headline worthy news reminds me how far I am from the U.S. of A. One of the men in a nearby village asked me recently, “is it true that there are people in your country that live on the street and are hungry? I saw it on a movie, but I wasn’t sure if it was true.” So I replied yes, as a movie reel of faces & names & stories of all the homeless men, women, and youth I have so loved working with in America scrolled through my memory. He looked at me with perplexed eyes and then with a wary smile said, “I think your country needs you more than we do.”
I’ve been living in my flat in Navua for almost two months now. Sometimes the days go by really slowly, and yet time seems to just fly by. I can’t believe I’ve already been gone for a third of a year. I’m just starting to do some community project planning with a squatter settlement that borders town. After having informal chats, teas, and late night kava drinking sessions, we had a community meeting last week. At the beginning of the meeting as the taraqanikoro (“mayor” of the village) formally welcomed me into the community, he told me to call him “Ta” which means dad…suddenly, there was a quite eruption of unrest circling the room and all the men started talking to each other in Fijian way past my level of understanding. After a few minutes of this, the taraqanikoro turned to me and said…you will call all of us ta because we all regard you as our daughter. Family ties here are really important—there’s a different Fijian word for all sorts of relatives depending on what side of the family they fall. So to decide my village family of origin was an important task for them…apparently they couldn’t decide how to make things fair , so I now have about 28 Fijian "Ta"s In this particular village, they are currently proposing a plan to upgrade their toilet facilities, which are currently mostly pit toilets. If you aren’t familiar with this term it’s essentially a hole dug in the ground & a breeding ground for dengue fever carrying mosquitos amongst a wealth of other diseases…and the smell under the hot Fijian sun is putrid. That’s just one of the projects underway, hopefully soon some longer term projects will emerge. Like I’ve said in a previous e-mail non-communicable diseases…especially diabetes…is really prevalent here. So, the nurses are trying to get in shape & live more active lifestyles in an extremely sedentary community. We’ll be starting women’s fitness classes soon, which is unheard of here in Fiji…I can’t wait to see all the middle aged women workin’ it during aerobics which is what they’ve decided we should do along with fitness yoga & kickboxing.
I’ve really become a part of the community here, I’ve even joined the women’s soccer team in town. No, I didn’t play soccer in America. Yes, I am absolutely terrible. But they insisted I join them, so for the sake of trying new things, deepening relationships with the other women on the team, and staying fit…here goes nothing. I’m also learning how to tie-die, sew, and weave mats from a women’s group that does handicrafts for income generation. We have a big “World women’s craft fair” in Suva in October, it will be pretty cool to see all of their handcrafted quilts, curtains, mats, etc. on display since they just started this form of income generation. I’m hoping by the time I leave in 2 years I will have completed my quilt (one that would take Alesi, one of the women in the group, just a couple of weeks to complete J ). I have so much fun with the women here. The older ladies are always trying to dress me in sarees, and tell me stories about their own daughters, many of whom have moved overseas to America, New Zealand, or Australia. The girls my age are fabulous—we have so much fun with dance parties, curry nights, and sand volleyball. It would be much harder for me to be here if it weren’t for the good local friends I’ve made.
I promise I’ll be taking my camera out of its case again soon, so look for some new photos of life in Fiji coming to an inbox near you.
That’s all from this end of the world…I miss you all…and I might be miles away, but I’m right there with you cheering for my two Chicago loves…the Cubs & da Bears!
August 20, 2008
Namaste!
A lot has happened since I last wrote you all. I have officially sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer, moved to my new site, set up my flat, and begun to make my way to as many houses as possible to drink kava, eat delicious curry, and talanoa (sit around telling stories). The town I’m living in is diverse with a good mix of both indigenous Fijians, and Indofijians. My Hindi language skill is slowly becoming conversational, and the roti I roll are becoming more and more round. I’ve had the strangest mix of emotions as I’ve been settling in. I’m ecstatic, nervous, confident, & unsure. The people of Fiji are so welcoming, it’s hard to not feel at home here…and yet I am definitely missing those of you who make home what it is in America.
Most weekdays I wake up to the sunrising over the river with mountains in the backdrop. I make myself some tea and sit on the front porch processing the previous day and taking in the beauty of it all. I put on one of my five knee length skirts & polo shirts & head to the health centre I’m attached to and drink tea with the nurses, dietician, and peer educator. Work here takes on a whole new meaning from what I’ve ever known it to be. We definitely move on island time…and when someone says they’ll do something today it will maybe be finished by next week…maybe. This isn’t to say that the people here are lazy, or unmotivated, they simply lack a sense of urgency—especially around work related issues. So when I say I drink tea at work…I mean, I drink tea for work…probably a couple hours. I then make my way out into the community talking to the old ladies at the market selling pumpkins, bananas, chile peppers, and curry, or the community leaders such as the principals of the schools or police officers sitting around talanoaing. Right now my prime responsibility is to begin to understand the community—how it works, who it’s made up of, what resources & assets it already has, and what it would like to be networked to, who goes where when, etc. This will help me later on in my service because I’ll be able to assess the community needs by actually knowing and talking with the community. After walking around I come back and have lunch, maybe play a game of volleyball with the nurses who are all trying to be a good example to the NCD pronc community by exercising regularly. After a long day of what we in Fiji call work, I head home and go for a run along the river. Occassionally my new 12 year old buddy Selina comes with me—she wants to run track this summer (it’s winter here right now…), so we do our ab work out & stretching & head out for the 5 kilometers ahead of us. Finally, I make my way to someone’s house for dinner. I’ve only cooked a few meals for myself in the last few weeks, because everyone is so inviting & I’m constantly being invited over for dinner. The people here are extremely communal and family oriented. They have a difficult time understanding how I can even function living on my own in a flat…so I’m well taken care of and adopted by several different families in town.
This past weekend I started my backyard garden…one would think this was an easy task, but my neighbors came out with some gardening tools and asked “are you from the city?...it looks like it…” They were well intentioned in this honest remark an they helped me dig up the grass that probably would have taken another few days for me to remove in less than an hour. I hope to have some beans, watermelon, cabbage & tomatoes along with oregano and basil sometime in the near future. I went to firewalking ceremonies at the Hindi temple just down the road from my home. All week the firewalkers have woken up before sunrise to cleanse themselves in the river, beat their huge drums, and offer sacrifices at the alter. They completed the week of fasting and prayer with a Saturday night ceremony complete with traditional costume, dancing, and music. At midnight they lit a huge pile of wood that would burn until 4pm the next day when all that is left are burning embers. At the Sunday ceremony they prepare themselves by again praying and offering sacrifices, piercing their bodies numerous times, and eventually walking across the bed of hot ashes. I’m still learning about all of the traditions & beliefs of the Hindi people (and if any of you have accurate info. on this practice let me know), so I won’t try to analyze the reasoning behind all of these traditions. I’m currently trying to take everything in and understand as best I can, the culture and traditions that are so deeply embedded into the history and stories of the people here. This weekend also marks the first time I’ve seen a beach like the ones we see in postcards. For those of you doubting that I was even writing you from the beautiful island of Fiji, it’s true there are wonderful beaches here. I traveled up the coral coast and while I haven’t done any snorkeling yet, I hope to do so with some volunteers near my site that know all about marine life.
So currently, I’m in the middle of a campaign that is going on in conjuction with Hibiscus, a festival in Suva. Along with local stakeholders in the field of adolescent reproductive health, I’m participating in youth utreach focused on HIV/AIDS awareness. The total number of reported cases in Fiji is 271. The estimate for the actual number is between 2000-3000. In a country with a small population, that’s a scary number of people who have the virus and don’t know. Because of the lack of education, the traditionally taboo nature of discussing sexual health, and culture that is so relaxed it doesn’t often visit a doctor until something has to be amputated or it becomes apparently life threatening, STIs—including HIV/AIDS have spread without people knowing they were even at risk. It’s really encouraging to see some action being taken and organization around getting the information disseminated into communities. I’m learning a lot from all of the local peer educators (those trained in adolescent reproductive health outreach within the ministry of health), as well as talking to people at the festival. It’s giving me a good idea of the urgency and necessity for this globally erupting pandemic to be addressed.
I’m learning a lot about myself, and my own perceptions about the world while being here. I often find myself reevaluating the way in which I’ve approached both global and local issues. I have definitely been in a period of healthy unrest as I reconstruct my worldview based on the values, beauty, and culture found here. I could not possibly give you all a concise or complete recognition of this restructuring at this point in my service…but when I figure it out I’ll let you know J
Hopefully many of you have seen the photos I posted onto the wonderful world of facebook…and if you haven’t let me know so I can send you the link to the albums. Take care & please keep me updated on life back at home. I love to hear all about it, especially for those of us who just graduated & are now getting “grown up jobs” and setting out on our own. Island life gives me plenty of time to download your e-mails to my laptop & read them like bedtime stories at night.
May you all find some time in your week to live like the islanders—breathing in deeply the fragrance of life,
Week 1:
Our first week in Fiji, my entirely quirky Peace Corps Team of 32 stayed in Bungalows at a boarding school. We had meetings all day, but played ultimate Frisbee on every break. We also watched a lot of rugby at all hours of the night since the Fiji team was playing a tournament in Europe. It was beginning to feel a lot like summer camp when all that could be heard at night were the echoes of guitars being played in the moonlight, young men making up stupid games that somehow become funny like “how many words can you make sound Hillbilly” led by our favorite southern volunteer Heath, and “uh-oh-uhoooh uh-oh-uhooooh uh-uh-uhooooh the right stuff” blaring from a bungalow nearby.
The honeymoon is over though, and we’ve been placed in different villages near Nasauri. I was one of the few placed in an Indo-Fijian settlement close to the city called Visama. This means I will most likely be placed in an urban Hindistani (a combination of Hindi & Fijian) speaking community. I’m staying with the Prakash family for the next 8 weeks, and they have lovingly given me the Hindi name “Swastika” which in their culture is a religious symbol that means “peace.” I attempted to persuade them to award me a different name, but Swastika I remain. They even drew me the sign and told me I would be able to brag about my name to friends at home because it comes with a symbol attached. Since I had only met them 2 hours before this, I did not inform them of the alternate meaning of this symbol, though I plan to do so sometime in the future when it will be humorous and not embarrassing to them. I live with a maatajii aur pitajii (mom & dad), two girls ages 16 and 17, and a 19 year old boy. They are a very nice family, and fortunately all have a great sense of humor since my cultural sensitivity and language pronunciation still need some work.
The settlement is full of friendly people who are always inviting me and the other 5 that live in the settlement in for tea and cookies. I have made it a rule to leave my house 30 minutes ahead of schedule in order to make time for people who may stop me on the way. I’ve already been invited to several weddings, and attended one last weekend. Fortunately, here in the settlement women don’t drink grog (some of you may know it as kava or yaqona) often, so I am mostly free from the narcotic-like mud water, which I consumed many bowls a night while in our training camp. This is not to say the men don’t down it here. In fact, another volunteer lives with a couple who run a night time Drive-up grog business. Just flash your brights, and they deliver the goods.
I am quickly becoming acclimated to the culture here. My hands and feet are covered in henna complements of my “Cousin” Sima, who lives next door; I eat curry for breakfast, lunch and dinner; and when someone tells me we will be picked up at 1:00, I bring a book and wait for them to arrive between 12:30 and 2:00. There are, of course, challenges due to the combination of culture shock and information overload. My Chicago accent makes it quite difficult to pronounce the subtle accents of Hindi, my saucy, independent spirit is still learning a quieter approach to life, and I have yet to love cold showers. I am finding it ironic and yet not surprising, that a country known for it’s beautiful get away resorts is a third world country with an abundance of poverty and inaccessibility to resources and education. I actually have yet to see the ocean, and for those of you who joked about me going on a tropical vacation for a couple years, trust me when I say there is more to the islands than pina coladas and cabana boys fanning you on beautiful white sand beaches. Being here for two years will be an adventure, and I am looking forward to each moment along the way.
Namaste.
Sarah
P.S. At night it gets to about 70* Fahrenheit here. The locals bundle up in fleece, wool socks, and knit hats. If this is winter, I think I will learn to love the cold showers when summer arrives.
isa.
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