CONTACT: Our First Visitors

It is a hard act to follow when my husband speaks of sarongs and Island culture so eloquently.  But my job is quite different.  Today, I am the recorder of events and happenings.

 

Sue, Joe and Sammy

 

We had an amazing visit from our dear friends Sue and Joe and their 7 year old son Sammy.  They arrived April 1 and spent 2 weeks with us.  Although we visited so many different sights, we managed to maintain a fairly relaxed agenda that usually included a walk into the town of Lenakel for a daily ice cream cone (OK…maybe that happened more than once a day but that was a little atypical).  Our first adventure was to Blue hole # 2 which, in my humble opinion, is much better than Blue Hole #1.  Blue Hole #2 is a deep bowl that is encircled by the inner reef.  What makes it really special is the wide variety of reef fish that remain  in the bowl as the tide goes out.  As a result, there is a high concentration of fish in a rather small area and the clarity is much better than on the reef itself.  The highlight was when Anna spotted a green turtle that was resting at the bottom of the pool which you could dive down to see it much closer.  It was great to see and all the kids got the opportunity to see the turtle up close. 

The next day, we hired a boat to take us to the Blue Cave which is located on the Northwest coast.  One might not know the blue cave exists unless someone pointed it out to you because the opening is under the high tide mark.  When the captain anchored the boat and was describing where we should go, we all knotted obediently but we were all thinking “huh?”. It wasn’t until you got very close that you could see a small sliver of an opening as the waves receded. It was really amazing once you dove under the lip of the cave and found yourself in this cave that resembled a cathedral dome.  There was an opening at the top that allowed sunlight to be funnelled into the cave, creating beautiful beams that lit up the back of the cave.  The colour of the ocean inside the cave was vibrant blue due to the sandy bottom.  It was quite something, especially watching all the kids swimming in and out of the cave by diving deep under the cave entrance. 

 

Next was our trip to the volcano.  We left mid-afternoon to ensure we would be at the top prior to sunset.  Watching Sue and Sammy in the back of the truck with the wind blowing in their faces, and Sammy smiling a mile wide was just great.  We were very lucky to view the volcano when it was erupting at level 2.  This indicated the intensity and the frequency of the explosions. The volcano did not disappoint!  Huge rumbling eruptions and lava being propelled into the sky every 1-2 minutes was pretty thrilling.  Sean sealed the deal when he presented each adult with a cold Tusker Beer at the top.  What a thoughtful man!

 

A highlight for all of us came a few days later when we visited the traditional  village of Yakal about 1 hour south of Lenakel.   The local people continue to live the way they used to, prior to external influences.  Tours operate from the resorts bringing tourists to Yakal and  one would contemplate whether the locals put on a  show  for the tourists, but from what I saw, I certainly didn’t get that feeling.  We were not part of a tour,  but rather had the chance to offer medical advice to the people.  We also went there to visit  new friends that have been living with the Yakal people for 4 months.   This Australian  family (Ben, Janita, River and Atlas Dean) have immersed themselves in the culture completely.  They are living in a traditional hut, eating all local food, and spent the first 2 months gathering local stories and experiences.  They then wrote a screenplay and are currently filming the story using local “actors”.  It was quite a privilege to be able to spend the day with them and experience the kindness and generosity of the Yakal people. 

 

Certainly the attire differentiated us and them.  The local men wear the traditional namba. This is the penis sheath that Sammy and my children couldn’t wait to see (OK….maybe the parents too).  Although I could imagine Sean and or Joe giving this a try, I would prefer not to.  It consists of a waistband and a woven grass sheath that resides over the male’s genitalia.  We spent quite a bit of time trying to ascertain whether the sheath also contained the testes.  Despite our best effort, and respecting the boundaries of others, our question remains unanswered.  When I say “our”, I am really referring to Sue’s and mine as it would slightly inappropriate to show such interest in front of both our husbands and our children.

 

Anna has such a wonderful way with the children.  She engages with them so easily and they respond in kind.  She subsequently provides the opportunity for Sasha and Sammy to also get involved.  She is really something to watch as she approaches the kids in a kind and respectful manner,  and reaches out with irresistible warmth. She will have 2 or 3 children hanging off of her within minutes.  She was given a beautiful shell necklace by one of the girls that was really very special for her.

 

 

 A traditional dance was performed for us.  The men and boys danced in circles, stamping the ground with their feet in rhythm.  The women sang on the periphery and were quite amazing to listen to.  There was one  woman in particularly that never closed her mouth as she sang perpetually.  Everyone really looked like they were enjoying themselves.  Once the dance was finished, we all walked down the dirt pathway to the bottom of the ravine.  You could hear the waterfall from several hundred meters away that fell into a small swimming hole.  The kids were the first ones in and we all followed.  The water was so cold but it really didn’t matter.  The kids were all jumping off the cliff walls into this small, and not so deep, pool.  I started reviewing my old lifeguarding emergency  procedures like cervical neck stabilization, but thankfully did not have to apply this.  It was really one of those life moments as we all played in this tropical pool with a cascading waterfall nearby.  It was quite something to share this day with our friends who have travelled all the way from Canada to visit us.

Young dancers of Yakal

 

Although we did other excursions, the time spent just hanging out and experiencing the life on Tanna was equally as fun.  Sue and Joe and Sammy fit right in and embraced the island life.  Joe, in particular, took on the much appreciated role of cook extraordinaire.  He remained highly motivated to create unique dishes that incorporated the local food.  He even took on the courageous job of making cava from scratch.  One blender down and a sore forearm from grinding the root, we had ourselves a homemade cup of kava that tasted a heck of a lot cleaner than usual. 

Sue and I will have long-lasting memories of the cava at the nakamel on the beach.  In case either of us forget, the video footage will serve as a constant reminder of our experience.  Too funny!!!

They left on April 14^th, and as sad as it was to see them go, we all felt a great satisfaction in being able to share our unique Tanna experience.  A huge thank you out to them for coming!!!

 

Andrea

Photo Essay #2

 



Guess which one is Sasha


 

Step into my office


 

 

 

 

 

 

Sasha's favourite place



 

You can never have too many volcano photos


 

The ash cloud after an eruption


 

Our hospital team plays the inter-island football championships


 

 

 

Our favourite local beach. Sunsets are hard to go without once you get in the habit.




 



Lukem you,

Sean



P.S. Sahsa has some great photos of our trip to a coastal sea cave on her blog: Vanuatugr2.blogspot.com

Say Yes to the Dress

Today was a day I never saw coming. While I have envisioned many experiences that I want to share with my children, today’s activity was not one of them. All right, I’ll just come right out and say it. Today Anna and I went skirt shopping and she helped me pick one out…for myself. What can I say? I needed a backup one.

 

Ah, the humble sarong, an item that has become as dear to me, and evokes as much sentiment as one of my trusty pairs of hiking boots. I’ve seen it called by many names here: the sarong, the sulu, the lavalava, the pettigoat, and the pereo.  Anna had given me one for my birthday in March, knowing I had been intrigued by them for weeks. Now I wanted a second one in case something happened to the first while travelling on vacation.

 

It’s an exceedingly simple item, in essence just a big thin light drape. Often they are brightly, even effeminately coloured, with lots of floral prints. Men here commonly wear them wrapped around their waist like we westerners might secure a bath towel, or tied in some manner around each leg, the overall effect being akin to a short pant for a genie. I have not as of yet been able to unravel (or rather ravel) the latter method. My first attempt resulted in my lying restrained and incapacitated on the floor until my family returned home to release me. Men and boys wear them commonly as every day wear or often as swimwear. The local Presbyterian college even uses it as part of their mandatory uniform for boys. When I first encountered a large group of them, all dressed alike in their sarongs and carrying bush knives, I could feel my mind working overtime to process the opposing forces in the image; boys in skirts, religious children brandishing knives, people rushing towards me with weapons but laughing and smiling, what the hell…?

 

The most common mistake for those men new to the sarong is sitting in an, “un-ladylike”, manner and unwittingly making one’s privates, not so private. Hardly second nature for us western fellows; it does require some getting used to, not to mention ample amounts of forgiveness from one’s children. Whether or not there are any nuances of fashion attached to the length of the hemline, I cannot yet say. Around knee length or just past seems to be about right.

 

While it does take a bit for a North American guy to get over the whole “skirt” thing, once you do it’s a revelation. They are terribly light, cool and comfortable to wear in a tropical locale. Always easy to pack along and have available for after a swim, you can also use them to cover your head when too hot or to shield your arms or legs from mosquitoes at dusk. A sarong is probably not strong enough to use as a tow rope if your truck gets stuck in a Tanna ditch, but I’ll bet you it’s been tried. I’ve been so impressed that I’m considering adding the sarong to my list of all-time beloved items. This is a list of things for which I feel an undue admiration due to their simplicity of design, functionality, reliability and versatility. In short, they share the capacity to open up a world of possibilities.  Among others, I count the humble climbing carabineer, the stainless steel surgical clamp, the elegantly forged mountaineer’s ice axe, the classic bandana and the venerable mountaineering boot. It's embarrassing to admit how much I want to add Captain America's shield and the X-Men mutant Wolverine's adamantium claws to this list, but there you go. It’s too soon to say just yet if the sarong will make the final cut. Potential candidates need a little longer track record, but I like its chances, and it just may carry its cousin, the ubiquitous Vanuatu bush knife, into the Hall of Fame with it.

 

Finally, I would be remiss today if I didn’t applaud the adaptability of my eldest daughter Anna as well. It is not every pre-teen girl that would feel comfortable skirt shopping with their father, for their father. Of course I’m sure it helps that we are in a different hemisphere from anyone she might encounter at home. At her request though, I’ll try not to make a habit of it.

 


Sean


 

 

 

"You know me?" Ohh.....You mean tsuNAMi !

Early today a 7.6 magnitude earthquake occurred off the Solomon islands which is near Vanuatu. An urgent tsunami advisory was issued for the island of Efate, Vanuatu where we are currently staying for a few days, in transit to the islands of New Caledonia for 2 weeks vacation. I immediately had the girls change into their bathing suits in order to prepare. You know me, always thinking.

We have just learned that the warning has now been lifted after minimal wave activity. Still, the period of uncertainty was long enough for us to have the experience the feelings of a possible impending natural disaster. So far I can count cyclone, tsunami and volcanic eruptions, as well as dengue fever plague among the possible experiences that I have chosen to expose my children to in order to broaden their horizons. If you let me count the small skin sores that seem to take forever to heal as a "pox", then things are starting to sound very Old Testament. Perhaps we'll have to contend with locusts next.

At any rate, I just wanted to let people back home know that all is well with us, in case they might have heard about the earthquake. We leave for New Caledonia on Monday which is French ruled and very modern, to enjoy some good coffee, pastries and wine for 2 weeks before heading back to Tanna.


Lukem you,

Sean

Joe Schmo and The End of the World

He shifted in his seat as he leaned to one side. His eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a knowing smile. He chuckled a bit and spoke. When he was finished I mulled over his words. “The end of the world” he had said. Perhaps it was, and ultimately nobody had brought me to this point but myself. How exactly did this all happen again?

                                                   .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .

 Vanuatu lies in the South Pacific Ocean, northeast of Australia between New Caledonia and Fiji. Tanna is one of the southernmost of Vanuatu’s islands and is considered one of the more remote and undeveloped places in the country. The population of 29 000 people inhabit an area of 565 square kilometers. Within its shores, things are a little different. Strange things have a way of happening here. It seems they always have.  

 

Missionaries arrived in the 1830’s intent on converting the heathens. At first, they were promptly eaten by the heathens.  Cannibalistic killings persisted until 1969.

 

John Frum was said to have walked out of the sea in 1936 and he was recognised as the brother of the god of Mt. Tukosmera. Just who he actually was is not really known. Many theories suggest he was an American military officer and that he may have originally called himself John from America. At any rate, he presented himself to the people of Tanna as a messiah and promised that wealth would come to them on a big cargo ship once all the Europeans were ousted and people returned to their traditional ways. His message spread across the island. Years later when many went to the larger towns on other islands to work for the US Navy, they were befriended by African-American navy sailors who often shared their consumer goods with the Tannese. They came to believe these goods were the wealth that John Frum had promised and became enamoured of all things American. The cargo cult was born.

 

The John Frum cult is in fact the sole survivor of many similar cults that were present around that time. Most were based on similar circumstances and beliefs. Essentially, some guy shows up and proclaims himself to be a god, promising that riches will come if people do what he says.

 

You would think that the John Frum cult would be on the decline but in fact its popularity is rising on Tanna, and we recently got a close up look. It began when we happened to be at the airport, dropping someone off. After the plane landed, an entourage disembarked. There were a few guys taking pictures and filming. The central figure was one very clean, very white, very American, chubby middle aged man. He seemed awkward, like that guidance counsellor from high school that you knew would be doing the same job, in the same tie his whole career.

 

From a truck in the parking lot emerged an older Tannese man whose frail, stooped frame was clothed in, what would best be described as a thrift store naval officer Halloween costume. He had his own entourage in tow and a meeting of the entourages ensued.

 

It turns out that this all had to do with a John Frum celebration happening the next day. The Tannese fellow was the local leader and who exactly the white guy was, was unclear. Perhaps a diplomat or dignitary sent as a courtesy by the US government? The celebrations were planned for the following day in a village on the east coast near the volcano. We would be there.

 

The hour drive saw the most pedestrians along the road that I had ever encountered. We offered a ride in the back of the truck to a few, but somehow wound up taking somebody’s whole family. Anna and Sasha were intent on breaking the previous record for most people in the truck (13) set by the last ViVa doctor so we piled on a few more and were at 16 by the time we reached our destination. We were feeling pretty smug until another truck pulled up near us and 21 young men piled out. Darn locals.

 

The village was crowded with a few hundred people. The central clearing was used for dances celebrating John Frum. Each performance was done by a separate village. Dancers wore mainly traditional attire but were adorned with bright tinsel lays and American paraphernalia.  Dances were interspersed with re-enactments of US military battles. A huge U.S. flag waved above it all. Set on a higher hill above all this was an area for VIP’s to sit, and smack dab in the middle of them was the chubby white guy from the airport.

 

The dances were entertaining at first, but there is only so much one can do with tinsel and a few dance steps. At the 90 minute mark of what would be a 6 hour tinsel extravaganza we decided to stretch our legs and poke around the village for a bit before heading home. We met up with 2 journalists from the UK who had come to cover the day’s celebrations. By chance they had managed to interview the chubby American. It turns out that he was neither dignitary, nor diplomat. He was in fact some Joe Schmo from middle America who was now on his third trip to Tanna, with the aim of establishing himself as an important, perhaps magical figure to the Frum cult. He had had no prior connection to any of this, but decided one day after hearing about the cult to remake himself on this out of the way island. On that first trip he had brought along a flame retardant suit with the intention of demonstrating his magical powers by surviving setting himself on fire. When he actually got here and realized how vulnerable the members of the cult were he felt that the suit stunt would be too opportunistic and shelved the idea. Instead he brings thousands of dollars of stuff like key chains with his face on them to give out. I suppose he must be unaware that virtually nobody here has a key of any sort. It was pretty easy to imagine him in 1936 establishing himself as the brother of the god of Mt. Tukosmera.

 

Another curiosity of the island is the cult of Prince Phillip. That’s right, Prince Phillip. There are a few tribes in the bush that worship him, believing that he is their emissary in the west who is working behind the scenes to keep western influence out of their deeply traditional village life. These are the villages where you see people in grass skirts and penis sheaths. They adhere to strict traditional, or “kastom’’ rules. They hold strong beliefs in black magic, ghosts, witch doctors and potions, the most popular of which is apparently one that when used by the patient, causes the person of their choice to fall in love with them. Some things are universal I guess.

 

As best I can establish, at one point in the 1970’s or 1980’s, Prince Phillip actually sailed past Tanna on his way somewhere else. Kastom legend had prophesized that the people’s saviour would be white, married to a powerful woman, and a sorcerer. I guess the people must have also revered the singer Meatloaf, and figured that “two out of three ‘aint bad.” The worship carries on to this day.

 

A few years ago a documentary called “Meet the Natives” chronicled the journey of a few of these villagers to the UK to actually meet with Prince Phillip. After their long journey, after all those years of worship, when they were finally granted an audience with this man who performed powerful sorcery and kept the western world at bay, what did they say to him? They were under strict orders from their supreme chief to ask only one question…….”When will the papayas be ripe at home?”

 It’s not hard to see how for many, John Frums and Joe Schmos alike,  Tanna represents something pretty darn hard to find- a chance to completely re-invent one’s self, and to do so in a way far outside most of the norms that we know.

 

I came here as a physician. Not so far outside my norms, but the work I would have to do certainly would be. Being the sole doctor (aside from my wife) for the island seemed to be a huge stretch from what I did at home in Victoria. Andrea and I debated for a long time before committing.  Do we have enough skills? Would we be putting the kids at risk? Are we hardy enough? How would we hold up that first time when the shit hits the fan? Time would tell.

 

                                                  .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .

When we returned to town after our John Frum celebration day, the truck was almost completely out of gas. Previously, I had only put in small amounts at a time, but never a full tank. When I got the bill I almost fell out of my penis sheath. “One hundred and eighty bucks?!?” I gasped. I paid, and then wandered down the street to go to the market. I happened to meet up with an older local guy I knew. I took the opportunity to ask him about the enormous gas bill. Was this correct? Was I being fleeced? How could this be right? As I stood in the middle of the busy, dust filled market, surrounded by strange food, strange sights, missionaries of all stripes, John Frums and Joe Schmos, Prince Phillip worship, black magic and love potions, he nodded that it was indeed correct. He shifted in his seat as he leaned to one side. His eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a knowing smile. He chuckled a bit and said, “You’re at the end of the world here my friend”.  He was right.

 

Over the years I have had occasion to take some people rock climbing for their first time. Often when one novice was climbing and maybe getting a little scared, their friend would call out to them, “Don’t look down!” I would counter with my own advice and yell, “No, look down, and take it all in! That’s why you’re here!” 

 

As it turns out, we’re doing just fine here at the end of the world. Life on this strange island suits us. I haven’t promised any cargo ship of riches yet, but I am most definitely looking down, and taking in every last damn bit.

 

Sean

 

 

 

 

 




 
 

 The local john Frum leader and Joe Schmo

 
The tinsel estravaganza

 
John Frum Day Celebrations
 
 
 
 

 

The Prince Phillip worshippers of Yakel Village

Meerkat Manor

Just a quick note to let people know that we are all fine here after cyclone Lusi's passing. The winds never got as bad again as when I decided to board up all the windows earlier in the day. The following morning saw all the staff on hospital hill poking their heads out of their homes like meerkats to find that little damage had been sustained to the area. There were no significant problems at the hospital. The X-ray machine is broken again, but that's unrelated.

I gather from the weather reports that Lusi just barely missed Tanna so we were quite lucky in the end. Unfortunately all the rain is going to be bad for our emerging dengue fever problem, a disease that is transmitted by mosquitoes. Nine hundred cases in Vila over the last 2 months. Now 8 cases here at our hospital.

The mosquito that transmits dengue is active in the early morning and late afternoon. It transmits the virus from an infected patient to a new host by biting them in sequence. In other words, if you want to contract dengue, be a doctor doing morning rounds on dengue patients. Yeeesh.


Sean

Lusi's in the Sky

Well, after today I guess I can now add cyclone preparation to my quiver of skills. Hopefully in 24 hrs I will be able to relabel it as "SUCCESSFUL cyclone preparation". Cyclone Lusi is nearby tonight. The center is over Efate province which is north of us. It is forecasted to move southeast and away from us over tomorrow but anything can happen. We were initially forecasted to have gale force winds but it has since been downgraded a bit. There is still an advisory to do full cyclone preparation.

I've often used the term "batten down the hatches" to refer to anything from starting to get drunk, to passing gas. Today was the first time I actually had to do it for real. I know it's a nautical term but....close enough. Of course the wind started to die down just as soon as I finished, but it's picking up again now.  I have that strange ambivalence where I don't actually want a cyclone, but I don't want to have wasted all the time and energy it took to get ready for one either. Weird.

Anyway, I wasn't sure if Lusi was making news back home and had some people concerned. Also, power and internet might go down for a bit so we might be out of contact for a while.

Thanks to everyone for all the greetings and well wishes on my birthday.

Talk to you on the other side.

Sean









OK, so...... maybe I went a little overboard getting the kids ready.