same old same old

Been a couple months. Man I’ve been horrible at blogging. Sitting down to recount the enormity of even a day is daunting, let alone a week or a month (or two!). But. I will have to ignore the fact that I will not be able to cover it all and just dive in. I do have a lot to say!

Finally establishing a rhythm here. I have shifted my focus from integration to starting work. It feels, to me, the right time. The Peace Corps says to wait 3 months before starting projects. But really, it’s ultimately up to you and varies from person to person depending upon their village. There is a lot of sense to waiting, because you really need to understand the context of the village in which you live before you go in and try to change its course. There are protocols, power struggles, traditional gender roles, familial taboos, and other seemingly hidden village dynamics that are necessary to understand before undertaking any project involving the entire community. In addition, they have to get to know and trust you, and you the same. It takes time. And while it was not an easy three months, it was incredibly necessary, and now, at this point, I feel incredibly prepared and motivated to start work!

I have found the time similar to raising a child, I would imagine. The relationship has to be cultivated carefully. And there is a lot of doing things that you do not necessarily want to do, but should for the sake of investment and fostering of the relationship. Like caring for runny noses, instilling discipline, taming untimely crying, maintaining patience when not understanding, dirty diapers, and no time to yourself. But then! Your child grows and starts displaying those characteristics you hoped God it would. Like being considerate of others, cleaning up after themselves, respecting authority, etc. And I am not sure who is the baby in this analogy, me or my village. Because a lot of the time I feel they are raising me. Maybe we are raising each other. In any case, we are affecting each other, it is clear, and, I think so far, the exchange has been wonderful and positive.

My first project is waste management. In Fiji, there are no guidelines or regulations for trash. It is thrown in the rivers, into the ocean, out of buses, into the drainage ditches, onto the roads, within the forest, etc. What isn’t dumped into nature is put in a pile and burned. Everything. Tins, plastics, paper, diapers, batteries, cardboard, etc. The piles of burning trash, which are always left unattended, are in the middle of towns, villages, and settlements. Needless to say Fiji is very smoky. This is the way of life here, and in all fairness, what are you to do with trash on a teensy island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean? However, what I am starting to tell my village in our community meetings are the following:
1. Stop burning plastics!
2. Compost!
3. Stop littering!
4. Recycle!
After visiting the primary school and having a great conversation with a surprisingly receptive head teacher, I returned one week later to find a “waste disposal area” all set up with signs indicating the compost, plastics, tins, bottles, and incinerator. I was very impressed by the initiative of the teacher, and while it isn’t perfect, it is a great start.

My two villages are following suit, as they have now all seen the waste disposal area at the school. We have begun village clean-ups in which the whole community collects, sorts, and disposes of trash found around the villages. There are now big pits in both villages, and hopefully, in time, there will be less burning, and more thought as to where to put what. It is hard to teach proper waste management, because it is a rather murky subject that has no clear solution. Choosing to either burn or bury is picking between the lesser of two evils. Both aren’t ideal. But, as far as I can tell, burning plastics, which emit harmful toxins, needs to stop, and the amount of smoke in my village is unbearable. So, I chose to preach “bury.”

Now that waste management is underway, I am looking ahead to future projects. Water, certainly. Fiji is probably thought to have the most pristine water in the world, because of the success of Fiji Water. In reality, many people of rural Fiji still lack clean, reliable drinking water. In one area of my village, eight houses share one single pipe of water which runs continuously into a bathtub in the middle of the road. People come here to wash dishes, do laundry, bathe, and collect water for cooking. Another area of my village, including the school (about 500 people affected in total), currently uses water that is being contaminated by a settlement above the dam. Runoffs from pesticides, soaps, piggeries, human waste, and trash dumps all end up in the water.

So those are projects.

Another thing on my mind is the reality that Fiji has since lost its new and shiny quality. It has become rather monotonous and cramped in its scope, lacking a certain creative energy and expansiveness in thought. Never before have I been somewhere as exciting and dull as this place. Wild horses, tsunami warnings, and erratic buses, sure, but at the same time, each day is remarkably similar to the last. The rhythm of the village is monotone. The roles of women and men are seemingly unalterable. All the music is rhythmically and tonally identical. The belief in one God is omnipotent. Even though there exist alternative spices and ingredients in the supermarkets, food remains static and bland. For girls, there is netball, and for boys, there is rugby.

But it’s sustainable. Every day, you get up and do just as much work that is required so that you can get up and do the same tomorrow. No more, no less. In this way, no one ever gets ahead of themselves. This lifestyle, which is harmonious, yes, and certainly breeds a stress-free environment (I don’t think I have yet seen an argument in my village), the westerner in me wonders if there can be more. Not more money or things or materials, but more creativity and exploration and discovery. More expansive ideas and ingenuity. The knowledge that each person holds an incredible amount of potential that could, if cultivated, become anything, do anything, understand anything.

So. I have tried to think of ways to infuse my community with this attitude. As much as I would like to start a revolution, I think it’s against Peace Corps policy. But I do want to shake things up. Make people’s eyes open to the potential, size, and possibility of our world. Maybe this is a typical idealist PCV attitude that will fade alongside my service. Maybe I’ll realize that no, it’s impossible, and this is the way Fiji is and will always be. But I do see incredible potential here that is untapped. And it is overwhelmingly exciting.

I have not mentioned my cat! Papukeni remains cute. She now wears a flea collar, and ever since her fleas have been controlled, she has been much more tolerable to be around. She is definitely a village cat, and everyone knows her and feeds her and brings her back when she ventures too far away. She is incredibly loving, and while I try to keep my distance (you never know what could happen), she has become a pretty sturdy companion. She follows me when I leave for the day, but luckily, I choose the path with the goat in the middle of it, and while she is relatively fearless as far as cats go, she is scared of goats. So I’m able to go on my way.